My Sister's Keeper
by Lonestarr
Summary: He never expected her to leave. Coming back is a different story.
1. Scene of the Crime

Disclaimer: I don't own "Danny Phantom" and all that jazz.

All the young man could hear as he looked through the window of the gymnasium was his own heartbeat; louder and more incessant than a jackhammer was the sound. The taunts of the apparition holding him aloft barely registered.

The safety of the young woman inside the building was all that mattered. He had to get to her…now. A quick jerk of his torso loosened the harpy from his form. With a quick curse, her associate launched an attack of his own. He took on the form of a ninja and exhibited a few typical moves. There's a life at stake and all this spirit can do is show off? Regarding this being with all the significance of a butterfly's fart, the young man captured the would-be attacker in the cylindrical prison.

The female apparition hurried toward the young man, angrier than ever. He dodged the charging spook, but she turned back and lunged at him. Much as he struggled, the boy couldn't escape her grasp. She balled her hand into a fist and rammed it into his back, eliciting from him a loud yell.

In the building, the dominoes continued to fall, providing the only sound other than the girl's speech. The last one whistled through the air as it landed on the button to the lasers.

The lasers had been aimed at the middle of the stage…right where the young woman had been standing.

The boy extended his hands out. It would seem like some kind of self-deluded attempt at heroism…or, perhaps, a show of disbelief that such an occurrence had just taken place.

"Oh, my God!"

No one was sure who made the exclamation, but it had been most appropriate.

The smoke cleared and where the stage was now sat a blackened crater with traces of blood and plasma that most certainly weren't there a few minutes ago.

The ghost let the young man go and tossed him through the wall. With all his strength, he willed himself intangible. It was through a freakish stroke of luck that no one in the gym noticed his entrance, due to the attention paid to the stage.

He found himself in the basement. He shifted himself back to human form and lied, as best as he could, on the burlap sacks that resided within. His face and arms were cut and bleeding. That shot to his back, which caused him pain whenever he tried to move, wasn't doing him much good, either.

"_What's that?"_

The boy forced himself to turn his head toward the door behind him. As he grunted in pain, the door opened.

"What are you doing down here? You're supposed to be in the gym." It was the janitor. The rasp in his voice came with the ravages of age and the pack-a-week habit he'd been hiding from his wife.

"My…sister…"

"Yeah. She's making a speech, isn't she?" For the first time, the elder man noticed the boy's physical aberrations. "My God, boy. You're hurt."

The young man brushed a palm over his face. There was a smear of blood as he drew his hand back. Apparently, it was still fresh. He jerked his head away from the appendage. He never could stand the sight of blood.

"I'm taking you to the nurse's office, no question about it."

The man hefted the boy to his feet and slung an arm over his neck.

XxXxXxXxX

It was never easy for him to go to the nurse's office. If he wasn't ashamed at having to admit that some bullies roughed him up, then he was embarrassed at having to make up a story that didn't involve ghosts.

The boy looked over himself and felt a brief sensation of relief…then it hit him. He rushed out of the office, almost knocking the elderly woman down.

As fast as his teenage legs would take him, he hurried to the gym. He looked through the window. The students were staring at the stage. Some were huddled together for comfort. Others looked very nauseated. The one constant the boy couldn't get out of his head: they were all crying. Nerds, jocks, snobs, outcasts - all were united in solidarity. The boy briefly thought, 'why can't we all be together like this when something good happens?'

The door burst open. From it emerged a middle-aged man, a pale look on his face. The boy ran up to him.

"Mr. Lancer…"

"Danny, I…I don't know what to say. Jazz. She…" His morose tone became one of suspicion. "Wait. Why aren't you in the gym?"

The bottom seemed to drop out from inside the boy. "Well, I…" He could feel his stomach in one foot and his brain in the other.

"Why _weren't_ you in the gym?" Suspicion infected his voice all the more noticeably.

This was getting more and more serious, to say nothing of dangerous. What could Danny say that wouldn't expose his secret? "I was in the bathroom." It was the first, non-ghost related statement that popped into the thing in his left shoe.

Lancer looked around. "And for that matter, where is Dr. Spectra?"

As if to answer his question, the redhead ran up to him, as chipper as ever. "Mr. Lancer, Danny. What's going on? Why are you…?" She stepped into the gymnasium. "Oh, my dear. What happened here?"

The man scratched his bald head. "I'm still trying to figure it out. Jazz was up there. She was making the speech, then-- I just don't know."

She clamped a hand on Danny's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Well, it's nothing to worry about. I know this is a hard time, especially for you, Danny, but we just need to work through the pain and work it out."

Lancer walked into the building, out of earshot.

The boy stared daggers at the woman next to him. "So, help me, Spectra, you'll pay for this. You…will…pay."

"Somehow, I don't think so. You could always rat me out, but you'd be signing your own death warrant, too, _ghost boy_." She let him go and walked into the room.

The educator turned toward the psychologist. "By the way, where were you?"

"I just had to check on a few of my files." Spectra ran up to a small collective of students. Lancer looked at Danny and did something the boy could never have expected. He hugged him.

"I'm so, so sorry."

Danny glanced toward the stage. "So am I."

XxXxXxXxX

Danny was escorted to his locker by Mr. Lancer. Both men wore grim expressions as they proceeded down the hallway.

"I've contacted your parents, Danny. They should be here any minute."

True to the educator's word, a pair of adults in hazmat suits stood at the end of the hall. The aged-but-still-stunning woman in light blue ran to Danny. She sobbed lightly as she hugged her child. Her only child. "Oh, Danny." The boy returned the gesture, though quite not as strongly.

The heavy-set gentleman in orange walked up. "We're going to take you home, son." The man's façade of composure slowly but surely fell away. "It'll feel empty, though." He soon joined in the hug. In his life, only two people had seen the man cry: his mother and the woman currently at his side.

Danny wiped the tears from his face. "I just need to get my things."

XxXxXxXxX

Making the short trip to his locker had been a wearying one for Danny. He wasn't sure which location he dreaded more: the school, where his sister had earned consistently high marks or his house, where she was butting into his affairs… Almost as quickly as he set off on this tangent, he caught himself. He valued his privacy, and for good reason, but he had to admit that he'd miss his sister meddling in his life.

Dr. Spectra had finished with a pair of patients; two band geeks who, like the long line of students behind them, were greatly traumatized by what would be commonly known as the 'gymnasium incident'. To the disturbed apathy of the teenagers waiting for her, the woman stepped out of her office. With a welcoming expression, she walked up to Danny's parents.

"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. I am so sorry for your loss. This is just…unbelievable."

"Your concern is touching, but who are you?", wondered Mrs. Fenton.

Danny stepped forward. "She's the ki--"

"Concerned child psychologist Penelope Spectra." She extends her hand. "I'm just so sad to have to be here in this…" Her voice drops dramatically. "… fragile time."

Mr. Lancer stood behind her. "Yes. Dr. Spectra has been helping the student body adjust. To be honest, you've got your work cut out for you."

"Like I say, there's nothing that can be solved with a little TLC: trust, listening and counsel."

The boy could barely help rolling his eyes at what the woman was shoveling.

"Oh, where are you going, Danny?" Her tone of fake concern fooled all but the minor.

"To my locker. My parents are taking me home." The terseness in his voice took his parents by surprise.

"Well, until we meet again."

The group passed by Spectra as she walked back into her office. Not a one among them noticed the Cheshire cat grin on the woman's face as the door closed.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny fiddled with the combination lock on his locker. It wasn't like he'd forgotten it. It was almost like his brain had short-circuited, if only for a moment. Something like this could throw anyone off.

He slipped the lock off and opened the door. Out of the compartment tumbled a rolled-up piece of paper. It looked to be about two feet tall. Eerily, it stood up on its end, refusing to fall over.

The boy stared at the foreign object like it was a full-grown person of the same height. He unrolled it and stared at the contents.

There were drawings of the domino display. Sketches of the laser blasters. Doodles of the stage, with detailed height and length measurements. These were blueprints.

"Danny, what are you holding?" The boy froze, his face trapped in an expression of pure shock. Mr. Lancer ran up to him and took the paper from the student.

"These are blueprints of the gym; of the display and everything. Why are they in your locker?"

The boy regained his mobility. He saw the look on Lancer's face. He could see the gears turning behind the teacher's eyes.

"This is not what it looks like." Danny shook his head.

"Danny, there are only so many ways this can look, and none of them are good."

"Mr. Lancer, what's going on?" Mrs. Fenton looked past her son to the blueprints in the man's hand.

"He thinks I had something to do with what happened to Jazz."

Mrs. Fenton narrowed her eyes. "How dare you…"

"I don't know what to believe, Mrs. Fenton, but I'm notifying the authorities. If what happened to Jasmine was in any way intentional, it needs to be investigated."

XxXxXxXxX

The mood in the empty classroom was that of death: silence, unhappiness, melancholy. Standing at the door was a police officer with a stern look on his face. Another officer with a similar disposition stood next to Mr. Lancer. The teacher sat at one end of a long table. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton sat on either side of the table.

The boy sat in a chair at the other end. "I already told you. I didn't set those lasers up, and I don't know how those blueprints got in my locker." Danny looked down. Tears were falling from his eyes.

"You don't know how they got there, but they were there."

Danny shrugged. "Maybe someone planted them in there."

"And pray tell how? It was locked, wasn't it?"

"I don't know!"

"You don't know if it was locked, and watch your tone, Mr. Fenton. You're in enough trouble, as it is."

"I know it was locked, but I don't know how…" It came to him in a crushing blow: Spectra. He opened his mouth slightly, as if to say something, but closed it almost as quickly. If he were to expose her, the chances of her exposing him in retaliation were a certainty. And the psychological siren knew this.

Danny slumped down in his chair. "I don't know." A thick coat of defeat smothered each word.

The officer next to the door took a step forward. "I'm very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, but until we can get a straight answer out of your son, he's going to have to come with us."

"Danny, if you know something, then tell us! Please! We won't think less of you." The mother was on the verge of hysteria. Having both of her children taken from her in one day was too much. She collapsed into the arms of her husband.

XxXxXxXxX

The next couple of weeks felt like a blur to the young man. It was as close to living a nightmare as he'd ever experienced. He vaguely remembered being escorted from Casper High amidst tear-stained protests from his parents. He could barely recall being taken to the police station. His memory struggled when it came to being on trial. But one thing he remembered clear as a bell was the verdict handed down to him.

"Daniel Webster Fenton, this court finds you guilty on the charge of premeditated murder. I sentence you to spend the remainder of your teenage years in a juvenile detention center." The elderly man behind the bench removed his glasses, his shame-on-you expression burning holes through the boy's soul. "And may I just say that you ought to be ashamed of yourself for such an unspeakable and willful act of malice."

The boy broke down in tears as he was taken from the courtroom. The crowd inside and out erupted in uproar. One moment, he had been making his way through high school and the next, he was a common criminal. As he was loaded into the police car, he could only wonder what life would throw at him next.

XxXxXxXxX

Cold. Hostile. Sterile. These words immediately came to mind when Danny entered the center. He looked through the tiny windows of the hallways and saw boys just like him, with one main difference: the boys looked devoid of spirit, as if their life force was drained out of them. Almost like Spectra had been through here… The boy's face scrunched up in hatred. At that moment, he make a promise: when and if he got out of here, she was _dead_…inasmuch that a ghost could possibly die again.

One of the guards had walked him to his cell. The key turning in the lock sounded harsh and more than a little frightening; a perfect match for this place.

"Make yourself at home…" He looked at the last name on the clipboard in his hand. "…Fenton."

Danny walked in and took a look around. It felt like a prison cell. The beige paint job kept it from completing a cell's look, though.

He sat on the bed and held his legs against his chest. The enormity of the situation weighing on his heart, he could think of nothing else but to cry.

XxXxXxXxX

Over the next few weeks, while the specifics of his term were being worked out, Danny received a number of visitors…

The two teens on the other side of the glass looked like death warmed over and coughed up…

"Another guy just whistled at Sam." The African-American boy jerked a thumb at a passerby. The Goth next to him took the phone and spoke.

"What? They've never seen a girl before?"

Danny smiled a little. "They've probably never seen a pretty one before."

The girl faced the delinquent. "What?"

"Nothing." He hadn't realized that he could've been heard. "What's been going on at school?"

"You know, classes, teachers, students. You're not missing much."

"People are still shaken by the 'gymnasium incident'."

"Sam, Tucker, I want you to promise me something. Stay away from Spectra. She's poison. And get others to stay away from her, too. Compliments, insults, threats - whatever it takes. Keep people away from her. You got that?"

The teens fell against each other's skulls. "Ouch", they simply stated, as if too numb to feel the pain.

Danny exhaled.

XxXxXxXxX

The adults sitting before Danny tried to smile through their tears.

"Mom, Dad…"

The woman put up her hand and picked up the phone with the other. "Danny, your father and I love you, no matter what…"

The boy could feel it in his bones. "But…"

"Well…"

"I would never hurt Jazz. You know that!"

"I know, but the evidence is so overwhelming. If you have anything to tell us, tell us. Please."

The boy hung his head down. "There's nothing to tell."

The woman wiped her tears. "Okay. You're my son, and I know you wouldn't lie to me." Danny winced at the statement.

The man picked up the phone. "We'll do everything we can to help you out, Danny." As the woman walks away, the man leans closer to the glass. "And here's a tip: cigarettes are just as good as money. We don't want you smoking them, though…" A feminine hand grabbed the man's ear, pulling him up.

"Jack, what are you telling our son? 'Cigarettes as good as money'. No more late-night premium cable watching for you!"

"But, Maddie, my shows!" The grown man whined like a child who'd just been grounded.

As Danny looked at his parents, a warm feeling came over him; even in his darkest moments, he could count on his parents to help him…and be themselves so thoroughly.

XxXxXxXxX

The pretty Hispanic girl sat in the chair. "I can't believe that…" Danny pointed to the phone on her left. She looked around and picked it up.

"I can't believe that you'd do something like this. I thought you were kind of a flake, but I never thought you'd do something so malicious, so terrible, so…criminal." A feeling of euphoria came over the girl as her voice trailed off.

Her surprised expression melted into one of…lust. "Call me when you get out." She blew him a kiss and walked away.

Danny shook his head, musing that one of Casper High's inveterate flirts may not have been the best choice for a potential girlfriend.

XxXxXxXxX

The bald man sat down, a perplexed look on his face.

"Danny…"

"Mr. Lancer, please. I can handle being called a bad student. I can handle being called a lot of things, but I'm not a killer."

"I really don't know what to say. In all my years of teaching, I've only had to do this twice, and all that young man did was steal a car."

Danny looked away, tears falling from his face.

"I'm sorry." Lancer hung up the phone and walked away.

XxXxXxXxX

An annoying smug expression decorated the blonde jock's visage. He grabbed the phone from its cradle.

"You know, I never thought this would happen to you. Stuck in juvie. You're gonna miss so much in here, but not as much as I'll miss beatin' on you, Fen-terrible." A hearty laugh escaped his throat. After a short while, it tapered off.

The jock looked around. "Oh, this isn't fun, anymore, and this place is really depressing." He dropped the phone and fast-walked toward the door.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny sat in the lushly-designed office of the center's director. "I have to what?!"

"You'll be examined by a court-appointed psychologist." The middle-aged man before him laced his hands together.

"I really don't think this is right."

A guard standing next to the director leered at Danny. "And plotting to murder your sister was right?"

The boy narrowed his eyes. "That was uncalled for."

"I agree. Now, Danny, we just want you to get through this as best as possible. I just know that the psychologist will help you understand and eliminate your problems."

'I know what my problems are', Danny thought to himself.

XxXxXxXxX

"_This psychologist comes highly accredited and recommended. If anyone will be able to help you, it's this individual."_

The room, like many at the center, was sterile. No sound could be heard save for that of the air being re-circulated.

Danny sat at a rectangular table in one of two chairs. The other was right across from him facing the door. Danny folded his arms and rested his head on them.

He could hear the door open, but did not move. He heard the clacking behind him. The psychologist must've been wearing high heels. He could feel something pass his lips. It was a stream of blue.

The boy looked up from his makeshift bed and saw a maroon suit jacket. His eyes traveled up further and he shook his head in disbelief. Of all the tricks the universe could play on him at this point in time, none were so ludicrously malicious as this one.

"Hey there, sunshine!" The red-haired woman's voice was packed with honey. "Why so glum?"

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "Oh, what fresh hell is this?!"


	2. Spectra's Games

The woman regarded her charge with a superior glance as she sat in the opposite chair. "Now, I'm going to do everything I can to help you--"

Danny banged his fists on the table. "Cut the crap, will you?! How much lower can you possibly bring me?"

Spectra blinked. "Why, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm here to help you. It's not my fault if you're unwilling to accept my help or the fact that you need…"

"Hey, Edwina Haskell. You might wanna open a window. It's starting to stink in here." Danny waved his hand in front of his nose. Spectra scowled at this. "Besides, those cameras can see. They can't hear." The boy motioned to the video camera that was standard for the rooms in the center. "One of the things I've learned from the guys here."

"How very informative. I bet you're learning a lot here, like how a spork can be a lethal weapon and not dropping the soap."

Danny offered a 'Oh, aren't you hilarious? Wait, no!' smirk in response.

"Why must you be so difficult, Danny? Your sister wasn't difficult…"

"…and she's dead. You haven't _seen_ difficult, Spectra."

"Oh, but I have. The kids in your school were tough nuts to crack, but I did it. In comparison, your friends were really easy to crack. They tried to resist, but one can only ignore the truth for so long."

Danny grit his teeth and balled his hands into fists. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

"I bet you're probably wondering what I'm even doing here." She stood up and started pacing the room.

The boy composed himself. "The thought occurred to me."

"As you've guessed, I need the misery of others to keep me looking youthful." Spectra put her hands on Danny's shoulders. He shrugged them off. "You were special. I don't know if it's the ghost energy, but you…do things to me. You don't just keep me young. You get me high."

"And that's why you're here? Because I'm your heroin?!"

"Heroin, mary jane, smack…like some wonderful cocktail." The wistful tone in her voice made the boy feel nauseated. "And you should see what your sister's death has done for me." She struck a pose, thrusting her behind slightly. "I've got an ass like a teenage girl!"

"And a face like an elephant's ass." The woman's eyes narrowed. "You were still on the ass thing and I tried to think of an animal to go with…" By now, the woman was showing her pointed teeth. "What, you're the only one here who can crack bad jokes?"

Spectra shook her head and sat down. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because I'm out there and you're in here. I mean, it's not like you can ghost out of here and stop me, is it? The system'll nail you again and again and again and I'll be right there to lend a hand. How do you think you got a unanimous guilty verdict within ten minutes? Huh, must be a state record." The young man pieced together what the woman was saying. She waggled her pointer finger in his face. "There'll be no hung juries for you, Danny boy."

"I hope you're not attached to that finger, because you are two seconds away from losing it."

Spectra glanced up, then shifted in her seat, concealing her hand. "Not really, though I do consider _this_ finger somewhat special." Danny glanced at the appendage. She was sticking up her middle finger.

"I can always tell the director of this place, or the guards…"

"Yes, you can, and I'm sure you'll convince them…" Spectra made her way toward Danny. "…just like you were so able to convince people you weren't a murderer." She wrapped her arms around him, the snake ready to ingest the field mouse. "I love this game, Danny, and the best part of it is that we can play forever." He could feel her (surprisingly fresh) breath at his ear. She nuzzled it with her nose. Danny violently shook her away.

She looked up at the clock. "Wow. Time sure flies. I guess I ought to be going." She walked toward the door.

"Yeah. Catch you next Tuesday."

Spectra took her hand off of the knob and turned toward the boy, an expression of utter contempt on her face. That she knew of, there were no sessions scheduled for Tuesdays.

"That's something else I learned from the guys here." Danny smiled, the first true smile since before Spectra entered his life.

She growled and threw the door open, leaving Danny alone.

XxXxXxXxX

"Mr. Lancer, I'm a little worried about Sam Manson and Tucker Foley."

The teacher looked up from his desk. "What is it, Dr. Spectra?"

"Well, not only did they witness…the unpleasantness, but they were Danny's best friends. They haven't been seeing me lately. Surely, they could benefit from some counseling."

"I don't know. I'd hate to pull them from class, and they're both busy during study halls."

"No offense, but I hardly think that wasting time in the computer labs counts as busy during study halls."

"It usually is computer lab for these two, but they seem to be working a little harder lately. Miss Manson has been catching up on biology labs, which is peculiar as she hates the class. Mr. Foley has been cataloging books in the library. They seem really dedicated to doing things around here."

'Maybe, or dedicated to avoiding me', the woman thought. "It's not a problem, Mr. Lancer. Those two will come around. In fact…", she said as she left his office. "I'm sure of it."

XxXxXxXxX

The room was relatively peaceful. Of course, when the students of this school don't _need_ to be here, why should they waste time?

A white lab coat was draped over the dark-haired girl. Goggles protected her eyes. Plastic gloves afforded her hands the same function. She looked down at a diagram of a worm, its various body parts listed.

The girl grimaced and turned back to the worm in the tray. Another grimace. She picked up the scalpel and slowly moved it toward the insect.

"_Hey, Manson."_

Sam turned her head toward the source of the voice. It was Paulina.

"Wow." She took a quick look at the worm, then back at the open door. "I never thought I'd say this…_ever_…but I'm kind of glad to see you." Anything to take her mind of this was welcome, in her eyes.

Paulina walked in, followed closely by a similarly attractive blonde girl. Sam hadn't even noticed the other girl lock the door.

"So, what, you're catching up on labs, too?"

"Actually, we wanted to talk to you."

"I can't imagine what we'd have to talk about."

"Why haven't you been seeing Dr. Spectra?"

Sam gulped a little. "Well, it's just that I'm feeling better now, you know?"

The blonde folded her arms. "A girl got killed. I'm not too surprised. She probably gets off on that kind of thing."

"Star, shush!" The Latina turned back around. "What my friend hopefully means is that you shouldn't be going through something like this alone."

"But I'm not alone. I have friends to talk to."

Paulina placed a death grip on Sam's wrist. "Then I'm afraid we must insist."

"Ah! Let me go!" Sam pulled away, making the girl's grasp tighter. The Goth looked around for something to free her. A devilish smirk crossed her face as her free hand stopped over the scalpel. Resisting temptation, she grabbed the tray and flung its contents at the girl.

The worm was draped over Paulina's face. She shrieked and jumped up and down, freeing Sam. "Star! Help!"

The blonde ran over to her friend and hesitated to take the worm off. Paulina's freak-out made it tough to get a fix on the creature, but just as much a problem was that worms, formaldehyde or not, are disgusting. Star slowly reaches her hand out and tries to pick the worm off, but recoils, letting out an 'Ew!'.

Sam stripped off the gloves and unlocked the door. Taking one last smirky look, she ran out.

XxXxXxXxX

Unlike quite a few of his classmates, Tucker had a fairly decent knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System. Learning it just struck one day, though he wasn't sure when and if he'd ever get to use it.

The library was quite expansive in its content: not just books, but magazines, graphic novels and audio books. Tucker looked down from the ladder on which he stood and placed a book on a shelf. As he climbed down, he noticed two imposing shadows cast on the books in front of him.

He turned around and saw… "Dash! Kwan! Fancy seeing you in here. I don't suppose you're willing to buck the stereotype and get some studying done, are you?"

"Why haven't you been seeing Dr. Spectra?" Dash punctuated the statement with a hearty crack of the knuckles.

"Right. I'll take that as a no. Well, you know, a recent study finds that a little psychoanalysis is good, but too much can kill you."

"How about that? Well, I've found that motor-mouth geeks who don't do as they're told get beat up a lot more often than motor-mouth geeks who do what we say."

"Interesting theory. What are you basing that on?"

The Asian jock turned to his blonde counterpart. "What _are_ we basing that on, Dash?"

"It's not an actual study, meathead. It's a response to his line about psychoanalysis." Tucker glanced toward the door and rushed away. "It's just a joke…" Dash looked over and saw the skinner boy. "Hey, come back."

Tucker grabbed a magazine off the rack. He glanced at the cover and flung it like a Frisbee toward the rampaging jocks. "Hope you guys like irony."

The magazine landed just as Dash put his foot down on it. He slipped, knocking Kwan backward and sending them toward the floor.

The publication that saved the boy's life was "Sports Illustrated". The cover story had been about lack of coordination in youth sports.

XxXxXxXxX

Sam looked out the window of the door and ran out. She breathed a sigh of relief that there were no alarms on the doors. She turned a corner and bumped into a figure. She looked at the person adjusting his beret.

"Tucker?!"

"Sam!" He helped her to her feet. "What are you doing out here?"

"Paulina, of all people, tried to strong arm me into seeing Spectra again. I've been doing everything I can to avoid her."

"Don't I know it? Dash and Kwan almost made me their tackling dummy."

The girl dusted herself off. "It's kind of like _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_."

"If I wasn't so freaked out by the fact that we're currently living it, I'd say that I love that movie."

"It's gonna be hard to go back in there." Sam jerked a thumb toward the building.

"Well, we don't have to go back there right away. Go to Nasty Burger?"

"I don't really feel like eating, Tucker. I just want to rest."

"I'll pay."

"Well, you don't have to twist my arm. I've had enough of that, today." As the girl started to walk, she could hear a voice. A familiar voice.

XxXxXxXxX

"_Samantha Manson."_

"_Actually, it's Sam."_

"_Whatever you want, Sam. What are you interested in? Any guys you want to talk about?"_

The girl bit her tongue. "_No. Not that I can think of."_

"_Come on, Sam. We're both girls here. You can tell me."_

"_And you promise this will stay between us?"_

Spectra crossed her heart. "_Psychologist's honor."_

"_Well, there's this one guy I see every day. He's a little clumsy. He's a little shy, but he's is so wonderful. The way he makes me smile whenever I see him. I don't know how to tell him without ruining…ruining…"_

"_The friendship?"_

"_Yes…no! No. I…"_

"_Of course, you might not get the chance to tell him. A lot can happen in life. People can grow apart; change overnight. That person you want to confess your feelings to…he won't always be around. There's always the chance that he won't love you back. Maybe his heart will belong to another." _Sam started to cry. "_Oh, but there is always the chance that you can be just friends." _The woman placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to calm her.

XxXxXxXxX

"Sam? Sam?!" Tucker lightly shook the girl, who looked to be in a trance.

"What?!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He eyed her cautiously. "Tucker, I'm fine!"

"Hey, I never said you weren't. Besides, we're here." The two of them stop in front of Nasty Burger. The boy watches the girl as she walks in.

XxXxXxXxX

"You know, Sam. Something just came to me."

"What?", she inquired, stabbing at the crisp lettuce in her salad.

"What if other ghosts attack while Danny's in lock-up? It's not like he can just leave that place."

"I've kinda been thinking about that. I have an idea, but I'll need to run it by Danny." Tucker took a bite of his double cheeseburger. "I just hope it doesn't come to that."

After swallowing his mouthful, Tucker jerked his head toward a blank space, almost as if he were going into a trance.

XxXxXxXxX

"_You must be pretty attached to that…what is it?"_

"_My PDA - personal digital assistant. Got it for my 13th birthday. I can't imagine how I lived without it_."

"_Yes. I've heard about this."_

"_Heard about what?"_

"_I just want you to know that you're not alone. A lot of people have this problem."_

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "_What problem?"_

"_Growing so attached to something, one ends up substituting the item for human contact."_

"_That's ridiculous. I'd never substitute this thing for human contact. Besides, I've got friends." _He looked over to Sam, who was crouched in the fetal position. Her normally vibrant purple eyes now devoid of spirit.

"_Yes, but soon will come a time where you'll have nothing and nobody left…except that thing at your hip. Sadly, it can never love you like a person, but why should that matter? I wouldn't blame you too strongly for preferring that thing to human contact. The girls at this school would never understand. They don't understand. They don't care. But, as long as you're happy with that piece of technology that will date inside of six months…everything's fine."_

XxXxXxXxX

"Tucker? Tucker?!"

Sam lightly shook the boy, who jerked away. "Whoa." He put a hand to his head. "What happened?"

"I think you were fine."

XxXxXxXxX

The two friends made their way back to Casper High. To their relief, there hadn't been many comments by passersby about the fact that two teenagers were out and about.

As Tucker reached his hand out to open the door, it flew open. Standing in the path was a livid-looking Mr. Lancer. At his side was Dr. Spectra, who stared the teens down with a smirk.

XxXxXxXxX

"'To Kill a Mockingbird'!"

The educator's hands were at his temples. Sam and Tucker sat nervously before him.

"It is simply beyond me why the two of you would skip school…and then return almost an hour later."

Tucker opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him down with a disapproving look.

Dr. Spectra, who had been sitting quietly off to the side, stood up and walked toward the students. "What I think needs to be done is get to the root of this problem and root it out." She turned toward the flustered bald man. "Might I have some time alone with these two?"

"What for?"

She waved her finger. "Ah, ah. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Fine." Mr. Lancer got up and walked for the door. "Maybe you can make sense of this."

Spectra waited until she could hear the door close. She smiled as she regarded the teens.

"Hello. How have you been? Staying out of troub-- Oh, wait. You haven't." A giggle as she leaned in closer. "This can go one of two ways. The easy way, where you fall into line with everyone else."

Sam gritted her teeth. "Or…?"

"The hard way, where you are as miserable as two teenagers have ever been in this or any town. Your classmates were easy; power of suggestion and all that. Your teachers, your parents, your pets…better not keep your eyes off of them for too long. You miss your little friend, Danny? Try anything funny, you'll be closer to him than you ever thought possible."

She walked toward the door. "As you were, Elvira…Webster." In anger, Tucker jumped out of his seat, but Sam kept him down.

"Visit Danny after school?"

"Visit Danny after school."

XxXxXxXxX

"I almost thought you guys weren't coming."

"Week of detention." Tucker waved his hand, as if to say, 'forget about it'. "Long story." He handed Sam the phone.

"I see you two are doing better. Been staying away from Spectra?"

"You bet."

"Been getting others to stay away?" The two teens grimaced at Danny's query. The inmate sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Spectra has some kind of hold over the students. It's like some crappy sci-fi movie!" Tucker practically snatched the receiver from the girl's hand.

"Hey. _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ is a classic! Now, if you're talking about the 1993 version…"

"Tucker, focus! Besides, I was thinking along the lines of the _Invaders from Mars_ remake."

"Okay, see, now _that_ sucked…"

Danny tapped on the glass. "Guys…?"

"Sorry", they intoned in unison.

Sam talked into the phone. "It's like Spectra was planting it in their heads to try and make us go."

"And the great thing is we get to go back and face it tomorrow." Tucker spoke as the girl held the receiver.

"Haven't you told anyone?"

"We tried to tell Lancer, but Spectra has him convinced that we're just disturbed…"

Tucker leaned his head toward the mouthpiece. "…acting out…"

"…too much sugar…

"Standard operating bullcrap", the students stated.

"I should've guessed she'd dig her hooks into the teachers."

"That reminds me…what if a you-know-what should attack while you're in here?"

After a few moments, Danny banged his fist on the table. "I never thought of that."

Sam took the receiver. "But I did. Now, you might not like this…"

"I don't." …and the tone in the Goth's voice was the most obvious clue.

"Anyway, I thought that maybe Tuck and I could do some…spare-time 'busting."

"But what if you come across someone really tough?"

"Danny, you worry too much. We know what to expect from your enemies. Besides, someone's got to do it."

The dark-haired boy exhaled. "Fine." Sam grinned. "But be careful. I mean it. Tucker, if anything happens to Sam, I'm holding you responsible. Sam…keep an eye on Tucker."

"We'll need supplies, though."

"Then you'll have to get them from my parents. They shouldn't be too hard."

"Great. Thanks, Danny." Sam smiled coyly, then regained herself and walked out. Tucker was about to join her, when…

"Tuck!" …ran back to the window and picked up the phone. "I can't believe I forgot this. Could you clean out the Thermos when you get to my house? I left it behind the bush next to the gym."

"You got it, Danny." The boy ran to catch up with his female friend. Danny glanced out from behind the glass, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.

XxXxXxXxX

There had been some rumblings in the warehouse by the docks. People figured that it was just a rat problem. Unfortunately, the real issue was a bit more…persistent. "I am the Box Ghost, master of all things rectangular and cardboard!"

Sam and Tucker emerged from the shadows of a stack of crates. The boy groaned at the overall-clad specter that flew past. "How does he keep getting loose?!"

"Never mind that, Tucker. Are you ready?"

A shrug. "I guess, but why do I have to be the distraction?"

"Because the coin came up tails. Now get out there."

Tucker rushed out from behind the wall. "Hey, there! Seen any good boxes lately? 'Cause I think I see a big refrigerator box over at the end there." He points his finger toward the far end of the warehouse.

"Thank you, helpful child." Just as he flew off, Sam jumped from her hiding place and uncapped the Fenton Thermos. The brilliant light that shot from it engulfed the spirit and sucked him within. Sam quickly reapplied the cap.

The girl wiped an invisible bead of sweat from her brow. "Nothing like a job well done."

Tucker rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. But what about Spectra?"

"What _about _her?"

"What if she was serious about all that 'hard way stuff'?"

"I kind of have another idea. There's no time to run it by Danny, so you're gonna have to trust me."

The boy stared Sam in the eyes. "I trust you."

"Good." She held up the Thermos. "Now, let's take this back to Fenton Works to clean it out. I just hope that the Fentons are pre-occupied enough not to notice us."

"I hear you. I don't think I could begin to explain what we're doing with their inventions."


	3. A Day in the Life

"Up and at 'em, Fenton!"

Man. I miss the days when I'd get, at most, a good five, ten minutes of sleep after someone woke me up. Usually, it was Mom. Once or twice, it was Dad. He wasn't quite as forgiving as she was. Then there were the times when… I gulp and clutch my pillow. I still can't believe she's gone. It's like there's this…giant wound that hasn't healed. I don't know if it ever will.

I glance out the window of my door. The guard is still there. Better get up. If there's one thing I don't want, it's being manhandled for staying in bed too long.

XxXxXxXxX

8:31 am. I head to the cafeteria for breakfast. Even prisoners need to start the day right. The line is filled with boys around my age. I'd seen guys like this in the movies from time to time, but I never thought I'd end up so close to them. These guys don't mess around. I've learned very quickly of a rule here: you leave them alone, they leave you alone. You don't get that on the outside too often. I guess it's some small consolation that Dash would probably wet himself if he ran into any of the people in here. I tend to overhear things in the cafeteria. That's how I picked up that 'catch you next Tuesday' line I delivered to Spectra. Not sure what it exactly means, but hearing the context of the line, it must've been some insult.

I walk around, holding my tray with food of indeterminate origin. I try not to feel foolish as I pass by these cruel-looking strangers searching for a seat. It's as if I was never convicted. I find a table at the end. I try to take my mind off of the loneliness - the depressing, soul crushing loneliness - by eating my breakfast. Okay, so 'eating' is a pretty broad term, and, looking at this food, not really what I'm up to doing. I wouldn't call this oatmeal. In fact, it looks more like gruel. And here I thought the idea was made up; this gets served in cartoons and Charles Dickens novels. It sticks to the end of my spork like glue. I will definitely not be asking for more.

XxXxXxXxX

After choking down breakfast, I head to my classes. Unbelievable. I'm humiliated, accused, convicted and I _still_ have to go to classes. Talk about a whoopee cushion on the electric chair…ugh. I hope it doesn't come to that.

The subjects are, more or less, the same: math, literature, history. One of the main differences is that I can focus on the material and get some answers right. I mean, it's not like I have a choice to focus on much else. I try not to get too many answers, though. It's the same as out there: you get pegged as a geek, and while a swirly is what awaited the geeks in Casper High, this place holds punishment that's a bit more…lasting.

XxXxXxXxX

The classes last the morning, then I'm off to lunch. Though there's more variety, it's about the same two-star caliber as breakfast. It looks like…stew. Note: _looks_ like. I've had stew, but this… I'd better not dwell too much. If I do, I can say goodbye to what little appetite I have. I guess I should give it a try. I'm going to be eating this for a while. My eyes close as the food slides down my throat…

Hey. This isn't too bad. A little salty, but it's pretty tasty. I really could see myself living on this stuff. Not too long, though, but it's pretty bearable. I look around. Apparently, the other guys here have learned to adapt to it.

I've been pretty lucky, so far. I've managed to avoid trouble here. All I want to do is serve my time until, by some stroke of legal fairness, I'm allowed to get out of here. Man, I could write a book about the things I miss on the outside; the things I took for granted. My friends, my parents, my school…what I wouldn't give to have those things in my life without being separated by a pane of glass.

XxXxXxXxX

This is the weight room. I kind of never thought I'd have to see one of these. I'm what people call 'scrawny', and the ghost-fighting keeps me pretty trim. Still, I guess it wouldn't hurt to bulk up.

There are a lot of other guys in here. Some of them are weightlifting. I glance at the weights. 75 pounds?! No…spinning…way. Now, I don't consider myself weak, but that would take a lot out of me, more than I'd need to get through the day.

Well…there's always the treadmill.

XxXxXxXxX

Tucker and Sam are here. Like my parents, they've been visiting pretty often. I can't get over how much these two mean to me. Ever since my family moved here when I was eight, they've supported me. Even when I got my ghost powers, they were more impressed than freaked out. When ghosts started attacking Amity, I didn't even have to ask them if they would help me. They looked me in the eyes and said 'yes'.

"…_Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ is a classic! Now, if you're talking about the 1993 version…"

"Tucker, focus! Besides, I was thinking along the lines of the _Invaders from Mars_ remake."

"Okay, see, now _that_ sucked…"

I tap on the glass. "Guys…?"

"Sorry," they said together.

In spite of how off the subject the conversation was getting, I have to say that I miss these little arguments we'd have: meat-eating vs. vegetarianism, certain movies vs. others and their remakes… How did I get so lucky to have these two in my life?

Sam leans forward in her seat. "…what if a…" She cups her hand over the mouthpiece. "…you-know-what should attack while you're in here?"

Damn that Spectra! I've been so worried about her, I forgot about the other ghosts. I slam my fist down. I don't care how much it hurts…at least, not for a while. "I never thought of that.

"But I did. Now, you might not like this…" Is she kidding? The way she's saying it is an automatic tip-off.

"I don't."

"Anyway, I thought that maybe Tuck and I could do some…spare-time 'busting."

I stare at her a little. No way did she just say what I thought I just heard. Wait. Maybe there's a way out of this… "But what if you come across someone really tough?"

"Danny, you worry too much." I think I'm worrying just the right amount. "We know what to expect from your enemies." …and that's why I'm worried. "Besides, someone's got to do it." Here, she makes a good point. My parents have lost some of the spice they once had for ghost hunting. They try to put on a brave face for me whenever they visit, but I see right through it.

I let out a deep breath. "Fine." She smiles. Man, I love it when she smiles. "But be careful. I mean it. Tucker, if anything happens to Sam, I'm holding you responsible. Sam…keep an eye on Tucker."

I really should've said 'no', but, well…it's Sam. When she puts her mind to something, it's getting done. I'd have better luck stopping a bull from charging a matador.

And I certainly can't discount Tucker. He knows just how to defuse a tense situation with a well-placed comic aside. I could certainly use some humor in here. Wait! That reminds me!

"Tuck! I can't believe I forgot this. Could you clean out the Thermos when you get to my house? I left it behind the bush next to the gym."

"You got it, Danny." And off he goes. I had wanted to pick it up, but things were already too suspicious. You'd think that Spectra would have freed that lap dog of hers. I'd like to see her try something next time. I'll be ready for her and anything she has to say. Unlike her, I've got friends on the outside.

XxXxXxXxX

Given the whole Spectra ordeal, you'll forgive me if I'm not too receptive to the idea of therapy, but here I am, among other guys. 'Special cases', we're referred to, sitting in a circle. A woman who looks a little older than my mom sits in the circle, holding a clipboard.

"Now, I want you to share how you're feeling." She glances around the room. I've got a very bad feeling about this. "Danny. How are you feeling?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Trapped. Helpless. Alone."

The woman nods her head. "I see." Somehow, I don't think she does. "Danny, I can't help but notice that this is what you said the last time."

I shrug. "I can't help it. Things aren't changing for me very much."

"Interesting." I watch her pretend to write something meaningful. "And how about you, Mitch? How are you feeling?"

A couple seats down is Mitch Patrick. Except for a few years and a couple scars, he doesn't look too different from me. From what I hear, he was found upstate with blood on his hands and soil under his fingernails. I didn't want to push the issue too strongly, but word is he had been fighting with his sister. They never saw her again.

"Well, how does one gauge how one feels when one's basic liberties are denied? I would have to say that I feel downright shitty. Thank you for asking."

"Intriguing." More scribbling from our den mother. "Joe. Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

Joe Vallely. Right across from me. His eyes dart around. He looks incredibly nervous, like he's constantly dodging punches that nobody's thrown.

"Well, I'm just really, really nervous, you know? I-I-I can't tell what going to happen, you know? I'm in here, and I can't stand it. Every day, it's the same thing. The same, damn routine!"

Though his speech pattern reminds me of an over-caffeinated squirrel, I can't help but agree with him there. The murmurs from the rest of the group make it unanimous.

I never did catch why he was locked up, but given how jittery he is, maybe it's for the best. I might end up finding out more than I need to know.

"Fascinating." Is this woman even listening to us? Still, any attempt at analyzing me that doesn't include mind games or put-downs is good with me. "And what about you?"

This continues for quite some time. It's a good thing that it's only once a week. A guy can only take so much boredom.

XxXxXxXxX

I can't wait to go to bed. By the end of the day, a lot of guys are too wiped to want to do much else. I had to do homework for my classes…Homework in juvenile hall? Twist the knife, why don't you?

I just want to sleep and dream about not having to repeat this grind for the rest of my young life.


	4. Night Moves

One thing that the occupant of the queen-size bed could always count on was that, after a long day of ghost-fighting, classes and general insanity, a good night's sleep would straighten any wrinkles that creased the person's psyche. The figure turned a little in bed, letting out a slight moan.

The light of the moon was visible as it shone brightly in the room, illuminating the bed with an ethereal quality. A shadow cast itself over the sleeping figure. Its head seemed to be flaming and the same went for its tail.

The unknown being flew into the room and hovered over the plush carpet. Its dark coloring (outlined with a purple trim) seemed to be a natural fit for the dark mood of the room. Its eyes - its dark, foreboding eyes - sized up the person sleeping in bed. A few quick words would break them enough to be broken literally, instilling more misery in the ghost fake.

She crouched into an attack position, which sent a slight gust of wind toward the person in bed. With quick reflexes, the person pulled a cylindrical object, which resembled a Thermos, from under the pillow and pointed its uncapped opening at the visitor.

"Did you happen to lose something…like this fight?" The venom in the girl's voice could not be denied. The spirit scowled as it shot out of the room.

The dark-haired girl took a breath as she put the cap back on the Thermos. She stuffed it under her pillow and fell back to sleep.

XxXxXxXxX

One thing that the spirit currently traveling over Amity Park was glad about in her current position as resident psychologist was how easily student files could be accessed. She could always tell the gatekeepers of the permanent records that she needed to look into a student's background; to check for any…'incidents' in said student's past, or, perhaps, obtain a student's home address.

It was almost too easy. The school was the barrel and she had the gun. 'They may as well change the name of the school to Catfish High', she mused as she came upon a modest-looking house.

XxXxXxXxX

One thing that the occupant of the bed in the movie-poster and technologically-laced room could rely on was constants. The teacher will always count on the person (or persons) not paying attention. His best female friend will rail against his propensity for consuming meat by-products. Trouble will find his best male friend in the most unfortunate situations. Most of all, a comfortable bed is its own panic room; nothing can harm him while he lies in it.

On a night table sits a lamp. Next to it is a pair of glasses, while a red beret hangs off the side of the lampshade.

A dark shadow rose up through the bed and cast itself over the boy's sleeping form. Quick words, broken spiritually, then literally; a sound game plan if ever there was one.

"That tickles", the person in bed said, matter-of-fact.

The spirit looked down at the boy and gave off a confused look.

He reached inside his pillow case and drew out a Thermos. He had been grateful that the Fentons had made more than one of them.

"What's cookin', bad lookin'?"

The entity growled and stormed (which is to say 'she flew angrily') out of the room. With a smile, the boy fell into a deep sleep.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny had sit in the stands of his school before, usually to watch the Ravens get their butts handed to them by opposing teams. More often than not, the cheerleading squad is what drew the young man's attention. Given that the squad was in the middle of the field, it must've been half time. Even from the top of the stands, he had a pretty good view of their…physicality. It's not like he had a choice; the good seats were taken long before he even cared to attend.

The girls flipped and kicked and did what cheerleaders did, to the excitement and approval of their hormonally-loaded classmates.

The boy rubbed his eyes, because the group of six seemed to suddenly disappear, leaving one girl in a red and white outfit. Also, he was sure he'd been sitting at the top of the stands, instead of the first row where he now sat. And weren't there other people sitting around him?

Strangely (perhaps, not so strangely; where else is she going to look?), the lone cheerleader stared directly at him. Her dark hair seemed to glisten under the stadium lights. She turned her body around, which left her head facing him, as best as it could. She winked at him as she looked away.

Danny stared at the girl; he was sure he'd seen her somewhere before. He squinted his eyes at her. In an instant, it came to him. "Sam?!"

Upon hearing her name, the dark-haired girl walked toward the boy and smiled at him. She waved a pom-pom in his face and started to gyrate in a most uncheerleader-like fashion. Sam reached her hand out to caress Danny's face. He smiled at her soft touch. She grabbed his face and forced his lips onto hers. She moaned ecstatically as she broke the kiss, her hands shoving the boy backwards.

Sam stepped back and turned around. Her gyrations resumed and she smirked at the boy. He couldn't help but be transfixed. In an instant, her legs seemed to gain dimension, as well as six inches in height. Danny shook his head; surely, it was a trick of the mind.

She wiggled her behind at him, and it seemed to expand somewhat. It became apparent to him that this is not the girl he's known for so long.

The girl turned back to face Danny, and he had to admit that the fullness of her legs, though off-putting, was quite attractive. His eyes shifted slightly to her bosom, which also expanded. Now, he was no expert on this sort of thing, but it looked like her chest had increased by a cup size. Even more, the front of the red sweater opened, as if some invisible hand was undoing a zipper that wasn't there. This allowed a full view of some spectacular cleavage.

Danny shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Was he really seeing what he thought he was seeing? He never really paid attention to Sam's look, but if there was one thing he knew about her, it's that she always wore purple lipstick. So why were her lips ruby red?

The rubber band holding her ponytail up suddenly snapped out of place. Her hair, which carried a dark sheen, lightened to a reddish color. The shape of it changed from its traditional hold to a style resembling that of the stereotypical horned devil.

The girl closed her purple eyes, then opened them to reveal vibrant green ones. Danny recoiled at the creature that stood before him: Sam had turned into Dr. Spectra!

With a toothy grin, she stared the boy down. "I knew you liked looking at me." She winked at him.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny rose from his covers in a cold sweat. He panted heavily as he surveyed his surroundings: room, bed, barred windows. Yes, everything was as it shouldn't be.

He pinched his fingers against his eyes. When this whole mess started, he made himself two promises: don't let Spectra get to him and avenge Jazz's murder. If that dream was any indication, the first promise was as good as broken. However, Danny wasn't about to let her know that.

XxXxXxXxX

Sam opened her locker and pulled out a textbook. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Pretty well, actually, except for this visitor I had last night." Even with the surprise he received, Tucker was able to remain calm.

The girl's eyes widened. "Spectra visited you too?"

"Yeah. I don't know what she was trying to accomplish with that. Was she trying to scare us?"

"Emphasis on 'trying'." The girl slammed the door of her locker. "We need to be on our guard." She took off down the hall.

Tucker followed after her. "No problem, Sam. I can do that."

"By the way, my parents grounded me because of yesterday." A clearing of the throat provided the right mood. "They, I believe their words were, 'can't believe that you would associate with who is obviously a negative influence'."

The African-American boy put his hands on his hips. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" To him, there was some kind of implication behind her parents' words.

"Tucker, they didn't mean you. They meant Danny, or, as they call him, 'that delinquent'."

"Oh. Well, my folks grounded me, too. Pretty likely that we won't be seeing Danny for a while."

Sam smacked her palm against her head. "Doy. Just because we can't see Danny doesn't mean we can't help him."

"Awesome." Tucker smiled encouragingly.

She stared a bit. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

The late bell pierced through the hallway. "Explain it on the way."

XxXxXxXxX

"…and so it was in 1941 that the United States was coerced into joining the second World War. The attack on Pearl Harbor was quite devastating…"

As the teacher droned on, Sam sat in her desk. A sheet of paper was held by a clipboard. She drafted a series of lines with numbers in front of them. Above was the statement, "To the Governor, the following persons support the freedom of Danny Fenton. He has been treated unfairly by the justice system, and it is our duty to see that he is released."

She smiled at the finished document. "Perfect."

XxXxXxXxX

Danny, once again, sat in the examination room. He exhaled as a light blue trail escaped his lips. The witch was near.

The door flew opened. "Hey, there, Danny. How goes it?" As the door slammed shut, Spectra walked around the table. "Oh, that's right. They can't hear us." The boy rested his head on his folded arms.

"I've got to hand it to you: those pets of yours are pretty well-trained."

"Pets?"

"Dopey and Mopey. They've been resisting me for some time now. It must be your doing." By now, Danny knew exactly who she was talking about. "Speak, stay…" Spectra counted the points off on her fingers. "I can't wait 'til we get to 'play dead'."

"At least I'm loyal to my _friends_. And what about your pet…Belvedere?"

"Bertrand, and that is none of your business."

"I'm sure you _think _it's not."

The woman smiled. She wasn't about to lose this argument. "You really are a piece of work, you know that? Living the life you lead now…"

"…because you put me in here", he stated bitterly.

"Tomato, to-mah-to. Anyway, I was thinking that there may be a way out of this that could help you."

Danny perked up at this, but not so much as to get her attention.

Spectra leaned forward toward him. "All you'd have to do is confess that you're half-ghost."

"What?" His inquiry combined shock and amusement. "Are you sure that I'm not affecting your brain?"

"You messing with _my_ head?" A loud laugh from the woman. "That is good." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Seriously, think about it: being a ghost has made you mentally unstable."

Danny opened his mouth to speak. "Not a freakin' word", Spectra threatened.

"It intrudes on your rational human half, amplifying your baser emotions. The court might show some sympathy…if they're not persuaded to go for an insanity plea, that is. Hey, I'm not saying this will make things simpler. Just easier."

"For who? You know something? I think I am affecting your brain, maybe not in the same way you're affecting mine. You said it yourself that I was a drug, and too much drugs will scramble your brain. If I admit I'm half-ghost, I might be tempted to name names, remember faces…and yours will be the first."

"Like the people here can do anything to me here!"

He shook his head. "Wasn't talking about here. The Ghost Zone is full of spirits like you, spirits who cherish their freedom and wreaking havoc in this world. When they learn it was you who convinced me to spill my guts, they'll spill yours all over the place."

Spectra slammed her fists on the table. "Get over yourself, Danny boy! You don't have it in you to ruin your life like that. You ruin your life, you're taking a lot of people with you. Would you really jeopardize the safety of your friends? Your school? What's left of your family?"

The boy grit his teeth and balled his fists. A nerve had been struck. "By the way, your parents study ghosts, right? Might make for an interesting experiment to see them get first-hand experience into the lives of ghosts."

Danny stood from his seat and glared. Spectra wagged her finger. "Ah-ah-ah. Don't forget to smile." The wagging finger pointed up to the camera. "I guess that's time."

She stood up and walked toward the door. "Think about what I said. It's not like you don't have the time."

The woman disappeared behind the door. Danny banged his fists on the table and started to cry.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny walked down the hall. Having almost missed lunch, he was anxious to get something into his stomach. As he turned a corner, he spotted a mountain of a teenager at the end of the hall. It was as if someone took Dash and exposed him to gamma radiation. This was Grant Fowler, or 'Spike', as he demanded to be called. Danny had heard things about him: starting fights with anyone who looked at him funny, getting into trouble just because. He was considered a lost cause by all who had encountered him. Danny turned back around in a hurry; trouble wasn't on his mind.

Unfortunately, Spike caught sight of something ducking behind a corner.

XxXxXxXxX

"Hello. I'm Sam Manson. As you might have heard, Danny Fenton was imprisoned for the murder of his sister. My friend Tucker and I consider this unfair and we wish to appeal to the governor. However, we are unable to do this without your support. If you wouldn't mind signing this petition…"

This was the fifth time Sam practiced this speech in front of the mirror in the girl's room that day. She felt that preparation was necessary given the number of times she'd be delivering it.

She walked out of the room and looked over the students milling about.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny fast-walked down the corridor. As far as he was concerned, lunch could wait. All that mattered was staying far away from…

"Spike!" …had jumped out from a corner.

"Hey. Where're you headed?" His tone was surprisingly jovial.

"Just to lunch. I'm pretty hungry."

"Wait. What's your name?"

"Danny…Fenton."

"Yeah! I heard about you." Danny tried to walk away, but Spike put his hands on either side, blocking his exit strategy. "You killed your sister, didn't you?"

"What?"

"I heard about her from some guys on the outside. She was a fine piece of tail. Why'd you have go and kill her?"

This was more than enough. Danny sent a fist crashing into the aggressor's jaw. The smaller boy shook his hand from the pain. Spike growled as he rushed Danny and tackled him. A grunt escaped Danny's lips as he hit the ground. He rained blows upon Spike's back, but the felon wouldn't let up.

Danny could feel himself being pulled away from Spike, even though he was still swinging. The guard held the boy's arms. "Fenton! Fenton!" Danny slowly stopped his assault.

Spike lied on the floor. Surprisingly, there was a smile on his face. "I knew you couldn't have killed anyone." He laughed somewhat. "You barely made a mark on me."

Danny leapt toward Spike, but the guard held his arms in place. The man grabbed Danny's arm and walked him down the hall.

XxXxXxXxX

The sun glowed a brilliant red, setting in the distance and setting the sky ablaze. Sam rang the doorbell. She felt a little strange doing this. She never came here without Danny, and what's more, the doorbell never needed to be used.

The door opened. The imposing figure of Jack Fenton stood before her. "Samantha. What brings you here?"

"Hi, Mr. Fenton." She holds up the clipboard. "I was circulating a petition to help free Danny."

"Of course, I'll sign." The man eagerly performed the task. He turned back into the house. "Maddie!"

The woman walked up to the door. "What is it?"

Sam held up the petition. Maddie looked it over as Jack walked back inside. She signs the paper.

"You know, Sam. Danny is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Thanks. By the way, is there a chance I can use your restroom? I've been walking around all day."

"Oh, go right ahead."

The girl ascended the stairs and looked down at Mrs. Fenton. She let out a huge sigh; Sam couldn't fathom what the woman was going through.

The mood was broken instantly by the ringing of a cell phone hanging from her skirt. She opened it and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello?"

"_Hey, Sam."_

"Hey, Tuck."

"_So, how's it going with the petition?"_

She continues up the stairs. "Well, between you, me and the Fentons…we've got four signatures."

"_Great. Sorry I can't be there with you."_

"That's okay. I'll call you later."

"_It'll have to be later. I'm still grounded. I shouldn't have even made this call."_

"Goodbye."

"_Bye." _

Sam re-attached the phone to her skirt and walked down the upstairs hall.

XxXxXxXxX

There was a slight creaking as the door was opened. Sam really did have to use the bathroom, but the lure of seeing the bedroom was too strong. She surveyed the room carefully. It's not that she was afraid of something leaping out at her. The girl had never been inside Jazz's room before now. To her surprise, it looked like the living quarters of any other studious teenager. It was no mystery why she was so wary of it.

Her gaze caught the corner of a book sticking out from under the pillows on the bed. Sam looked away, then hurried toward the book, practically snatching it out. It was smaller than any of the other books in the room. Sam's look of curiosity became one of surprise.

"Who knew that she kept a diary?"

The lock on the cover was the next thing to grab her attention. She sighed as she put the book down. For fear of desecrating the deceased, making a mess in the room over a key was the last thing on her mind.

She tossed the book down and looked in the drawers of the night table next to the bed. In the top drawer were CDs and a CD player. Jazz was in no hurry to obtain anything so pointless and expensive like an mp3 player.

Ignoring the top drawer, Sam opened the middle drawer. It was full to bursting with assorted items collected over the years: old name tags, an ID card from middle school, various buttons and pins. As she gazed at the knick-knacks, the dark-haired girl mused that Jazz truly was her parents' daughter.

She closed it and moved to the lower drawer. There, she found a framed picture. It was of a little girl, no more than seven years old. The girl's hair was a brilliant shade of red. The girl in the picture had a cute smile on her face as she hugged a dark-haired boy who looked all of five. A tear fell from Sam's eye as she looked at it intently.

Without thinking, she raised her head and bumped it against the top drawer. Sam rubbed the spot where she was bumped and looked at the bottom of the drawer. It was a key stuck with a piece of tape.

Sam grabbed the key, taking the tape with it. After sticking the piece on the night table, Sam grabbed the diary and unlocked it.

She flipped toward the middle of the book and read:

_Ugh! This family drives me so crazy, sometimes! I come home from school and the lights are off. Next thing I know, I'm ambushed by this vacuum cleaner! I can't believe that Mom and Dad…well, mostly Dad, think I'm a ghost. This ghost nonsense is going too far. When are they going to understand that there are no such things as ghosts?_

Sam raised her eyebrows at this. She flipped forward a few more pages:

_I was in my civics class today. I just love the free exchange of ideas. The conversation switched to the afterlife. A lot of people don't seem to believe in it…and in a town with a (I'm loath to admit this) ghost problem, that's not too surprising. This one girl believes in reincarnation. No one wanted to listen, but I was genuinely curious. The opportunity to come back and live again is fascinating, if somewhat irrational._

The girl's eyes widened at this and continued to flip through:

_There's something wrong with Danny. I can feel it. I want to help him, but he's pushing me away for some reason. I really hope that Dr. Spectra can help him._

Sam sighed as she passed a couple of pages. She stopped cold on one page:

_I cannot believe what I saw today. Even after seeing it, I'm shocked. Somehow, I feel that writing it down will help convince me that it actually happened, even though it couldn't have. Outside the store, in an alley…I saw Danny transform into…some kind of thing. It had white hair and a black suit…like the kind that Mom and Dad wear. I saw him fly off. It all makes sense now: the tiredness, the bad grades, the skittishness at Mom and Dad's crackpot inventions…Danny's a ghost. No. I still don't believe it…but I _did _see it._

Sam was snapped from her trance by the turning of the doorknob. She stuffed the diary under the pillow, tossed the key in the top drawer, closed it and jumped from the bed.

The door opened. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Fenton." Sam offered a nervous wave. "There's a good explanation why I'm in Jazz's bedroom--"

The woman tentatively stepped inside. "Jazz always kept this room so clean", she said to no one in particular. "I hardly ever had to set foot in it." By now, she was crying. The dark-haired girl walked to her and accepted her embrace. "It's a nagging fear for a mother that her children won't need her anymore."

Sam rubbed the woman's back. "I'm sorry."

XxXxXxXxX

Danny laid on his bed, his hands behind his head. He glowered up at the ceiling. The moonlight shone on his face.

"_Danny, why did you fight? You know you shouldn't be fighting."_

"_He was saying things about Jazz - nasty things."_

"_Even so, you need to control yourself." _There was an unexpected somberness in Jack's voice. "_Things are already hard enough without something like this happening."_

"_But--"_

"_No buts, Daniel!" _Maddie was clearly upset. She almost _never_ called him by his full first name. "_We were able to request another trial. Perhaps, something was missed in the original investigation."_

"_You're getting another chance to prove your innocence, son. Not many boys in your position get something like this."_

The news only barely registered with the boy. It was only a matter of time before Spectra caught wind of the new trial. She'd surely find a way to foul that up, too.

With a grunt, Danny turned over in his bed to face the wall.

"…_ddddddddaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnny…"_

The boy raised his head. He shrugged and put it back down.

"…_ddddddddddaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnny!"_

Again, he raised his head, this time turning around and looking. Darkness there, and nothing more. He let out a slight hiccup. A light blue trail wafted past his lips.

He snapped his head around and leaped out of bed, assuming a fighting stance.

"Show yourself, whatever you are." His voice was low enough not to arouse suspicion, but edgy enough to pose a threat.

Before his eyes, a spirit materialized. Though it possessed red eyes and green skin that seemed to glow (like a lot of ghosts he had encountered since attaining his powers), Danny stood with his mouth hanging open. He had never expected anything like this.

"Jazz?"


	5. Trial and Error

"Hi, Danny."

It took a good minute for the words of the female ghost to register in the mind of the boy standing before her. Danny slowly dropped his arms. Tears fell from his eyes. He saw Jazz holding out her arms and walked into her embrace.

He fell right through her and onto the floor. Danny wiped his eyes and rose to his feet. He closed his eyes and stood still. Two rings appeared at his midsection and moved, one going up and the other toward the floor. He was now his ghostly self, with a black hazmat suit and white hair.

He wrapped Jazz in a tight hug, fresh tears falling from his face. "I missed you…so much", he said, between sobs.

"I missed you, too." The siblings let go. Jazz took in Danny's new form. "So you're a ghost?"

"_Half_-ghost, actually."

The girl pinched a bit of the suit between her fingers. "How did it happen?"

"The ghost portal. I was inside and I must've hit a button. Next thing I know, I'm like this. I guess you were right about Mom and Dad's ghost obsession, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

A brief look of surprise crossed Danny's features. "You know something? I was so scared of telling my family about this. I used to have nightmares about what would happen if people found out. But now, I feel…happy. Truly happy."

Danny hugged his sister once again. "I love you, Jazz."

She returned the gesture. "Jazz loves you, too."

His grasp on his sister tightened. He glowered at the back wall. "Spectra." He practically spat the word out.

"What about her?"

Danny ran a fist into his hand. "This is all her fault: your murder, me being locked up…" He started pacing his room. "Man, if only there was some way to…nah. I don't know."

"No. What?"

"You might not like it."

"No. Tell me. It's nice to converse with the living again."

Danny smiled at the comment. "Well, I was thinking…what if there were a way to get me out of here, and, maybe, get her back?"

Jazz glanced off and rubbed her chin.

"What is it?"

"That's not a bad idea. Anything particular in mind?"

He sighed. "I have to work on that. Any chance you can come back tomorrow night?"

"I think that can be arranged."

Danny gave the ghost one more hug before she disappeared out of the window. He concentrated once again and the rings appeared around his waist, turning him back into a human.

He walked back to his bed and crawled under the covers, a contented smile on his face.

XxXxXxXxX

It had been a pretty good morning for Danny. Just the thought that he would be seeing his sister again filled him with immense self-satisfaction. His classes were but a blur to him, and lunch seemed to taste better; almost like a home-cooked meal.

That he could see, nothing could get him down. Well, almost nothing.

The boy looked around in wait. He had been asked to come back to this room after lunch. What could possibly be here for him?

A hiccup and a light blue trail seemed to answer the question, however mockingly.

"Danny. I heard about the little kafuffle yesterday. Isn't it wonderful? We get to see each other every day!" Spectra refused to disguise the elation in her voice.

"Yay." Danny spun his finger around unenthusiastically.

She walked around him. "So, what do you think about my suggestion?"

"I think you're lucky to remember to dress yourself, the way I've been wrecking your brain."

Spectra yanked the seat from under the table and sat down. "I don't think you understand the situation here. This whole thing can't end unless you come clean. Don't you even care how much grief you're causing your parents? Lord knows they've had enough to deal with lately. There's no need for you to be so stubborn; so childish."

"Tell me, Spectra. What were _you_ like as a girl? Beauty queen, driven by mommy to be the best? Or maybe you were a hatchet-faced geek who got to attend the ball as a princess, and once you got a taste of beauty, you just felt like gorging?"

"What do you think you're trying to do, here? You wanna get inside my head? Good luck. Many have tried and failed."

"Hey. I couldn't possibly be any worse than you."

"I heard that you're getting another trial in three weeks. Gonna be a lot of fun seeing justice served." She stood a tape recorder on the table.

Danny rose an eyebrow and pointed. "What's this?"

"What were they teaching you at that school?! It's a tape recorder."

"So you want a confession on tape?"

"It's not like audio can be taken from the cameras."

Danny smiled to himself. It seemed like an idea was forming in his head. An idea so diabolical in its cleverness--

"What the hell are you smiling about?!"

"Oh, I…just thought of something funny I saw on television."

"Oh, Danny boy. Tuning me out isn't going to help your case any more than it's going to help the arbiters of your fate. Besides, Jazz didn't seem to have a problem with what I had to say."

She wrapped her arms around him. "You remember? Sweet Jazz. Sweet, helpful Jazz. Sweet, helpful, flame-broiled Jazz."

Danny shook himself free of Spectra's grasp. She put a hand to her chest. "And why are you lashing out at me? I'm not your enemy here."

"Um, yes, you are."

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time to delineate that tomorrow." Spectra walked out, a superior smirk on her face. Danny, meanwhile, stared at the opposite seat, a smile on his own face.

XxXxXxXxX

"What did you say?" Sam sat in a chair in her living room, regarding the people in front of her with a look of confusion and disbelief.

"Your mother and I discussed it. We don't want you to have anything to do with…that boy." The man stood sternly before his daughter. It wasn't like he disliked her friend. However, he and his wife had always felt there was something…off about Danny.

"That boy happens to be my best friend!"

The woman next to her husband spoke up. "And a delinquent who murdered his sister!"

"He was _accused_ of murder. I'm old enough to know the difference."

"Samantha, we're just trying to do what's best for you."

"More like what's best for _you_," the girl muttered under her breath.

"What was that?!"

"You heard me. How would it look: 'Oh, did you hear about the Manson girl working to free a murderer?' Your friends would just eat that up with a spoon." Sam stood up and glared at her parents. "You wanna do what's best for me? Leave me alone!"

The girl ran up the stairs, her boots clunking the whole way. The next sound heard by the adults was a door slamming.

XxXxXxXxX

Sam grabbed her phone and dialed a number as she flopped down on her bed. It rang three times. "Tuck, please be there."

"_Hello."_

"Tucker, thank goodness."

"_Sam, are you crazy calling me? I almost got caught the last time."_

"I'm sorry, Tuck. I just had to talk to someone who wasn't a blood relative."

"_Fine. What do you want to talk about?"_

She took a breath and curled into a ball. "I miss Danny." The tears in her eyes seemed to deliver this point home.

"_So do I, Sam. So do I." _Tucker's tone was unexpectedly somber.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny looked around in the courtroom. There were times when he felt like this was some kind of cruel trick; that the justice system wouldn't allow him a second chance at freedom. To his relief and surprise, the three weeks had passed quickly and without incident…well, not quite.

He looked out to Spectra. She had been retained as a material witness. It made the boy more than a little nervous to think that his freedom was partially in her hands. She looked rather impeccable; not a hair out of place. The woman knew what she was doing and wanted the world to know so at every possible moment.

His gaze then went to the people sitting around him. Never before had he seen so many solemn faces. Not a single one of them made eye contact with him. In the gallery sat his mother and father, who sat in silent support. At one point, she mouthed 'I love you' to him. He smiled a little at this, but not too much to draw attention from the case.

So far, the trial had been going as well as could be expected. Danny was no better or worse off than before. And then, a bombshell…

"The court calls Dr. Penelope Spectra to the stand." The prosecutor's words nearly stopped the boy's heart in his chest. She swung her long legs out of her seat and approached the seat next to the judge. She stood and placed one hand on a bible while raising the other.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

Spectra gave a little smirk at Danny before answering. "I swear." She sat down. The prosecutor, a harsh-looking woman, walked up to the incognito ghost.

"Now, Dr. Spectra, what is your relationship to the defendant?"

"I am his psychologist."

"Yes, and what does that entail?"

"That entails understanding a patient's problems, why they exist, that sort of thing." Danny stared at her, impressed with how serious Spectra sounded. 'If only her practice matched her current tone', he mused to himself.

"And what were the defendant's problems, to the extent that he'd want to take a life?"

"I object!" Danny's lawyer, a bespectacled man, shot up from his seat.

"Overruled. Let's see where this goes."

"In my professional opinion, Danny suffers from feelings of inferiority, stemming from a failure to fit in with his classmates."

"That's utter nonsense. There's nothing inferior about my son!" A voice boomed from the back of the court.

"Jack, shush!" Maddie tried to pull her husband back to his seat.

"Mr. Fenton, you would do well to listen to your wife. Continue."

"Even more, Danny is not the kind of student who stands out in a crowd, so he feels that he must gain attention, any way he can."

The boy could do nothing but roll his eyes. If the whole psychology thing doesn't work out, she had a bright future in waste removal.

"Thank you, Dr. Spectra. You may step down."

"Oh, I'm all too happy to help." Another small smile as she walked to her seat. "There is, however, one more thing…" From the pocket on her jacket, she produced a tape recorder.

The judge pointed with his gavel. "And just what is that?"

'Jesus, is everyone around here so thick?' "It's a taped confession. Not three weeks ago, Danny confessed to me the truth."

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Dr. Spectra, approach the bench." She does just that. "Not only are you violating doctor-patient confidentiality, but you are introducing evidence of a questionable nature."

"Your honor, this isn't just a confession. This could make your name, as well as the names of everyone in this court. I mean, this is no mere felon we're dealing with here." She looked at the man, as if to say, 'Come on!'.

The judge exhaled. "I'll allow it."

Spectra turned and addressed the gallery. "And now, if it pleases the court, I would like to play something that will blow the lid off of this case." She hit the 'play' button and set the device on the prosecutor's table.

A few moments of static crackle on the tape… "_What I don't understand, after all this time, is this: why set _me _up? Why not someone else like one of the jocks?" _That was Danny's voice, no question, but those words weren't meant to be captured.

"_Please. Loner mentality, even with your outcast friends, unpopular, trouble magnet." _Spectra, whose voice was currently playing, dove for the recorder. Danny's attorney rushed to grab it and kept it away. "_The question is 'how could I _not_?'"_

"_I can't believe I was your fall guy."_

"_Believe it. I checked your grades. You couldn't even create a papier mache volcano. There's no way you could've created such an elaborate set-up. Then again, your parents _are _crackpot inventors. Who knows how much of that was passed down? _An audible collective gasp came from Jack and Maddie. The two of them started to scowl.

The attorney stood beside the bailiff and handed the built man the device. "_Still, there is something to be said for the pudding-brained morons of this town: they'll believe anything I tell them. You see, Danny boy? That's how authority works. I'm a board-certified psychologist, and you're just some punk kid with shitty grades, loony parents and a dead sister!"_

It was simply a matter of Danny setting up a tape recorder of his own with Jazz's help. The device was placed under Spectra's chair in the examination room. There were a few false starts, but once he inquired about being set-up…it was like catching a rat in a trap.

The bailiff hit the 'stop' button. Spectra turned in shock toward the gallery. Danny winked at her and gave a wide smile. She bared her teeth at the boy. "Dr. Spectra…" turned to the judge, who looked quite upset.

"…what do you have to say about this?"

She tugged at the collar of her blouse. "Well, you see…I…it jus…the thing is…" The woman balled her fists so tightly, she could draw blood from them. She let out a primal scream as the flesh seemed to burn off of her body, leaving her as a dark entity that floated in the air.

From the back of the courtroom came an impassioned cry: "Ghost!" Stating the obvious, Jack Fenton-style.

Spectra, or what was believed to be her, flew like a shot through the walls. The assembled humans glanced in complete surprise.

The judge shook his head and banged his gavel, his bearings regained. "Danny Fenton, this court finds you not guilty pending further investigation."

Danny breathed a huge sigh of relief. He shook his lawyer's hand, certain that the man had little (if any) idea exactly what happened. The boy ran toward his parents and hugged them tight, seeking comfort like a child who had awoken from a nightmare.

XxXxXxXxX

The family traveled down the streets in their custom-styled Fenton RV. Maddie, in the passenger seat, put a hand to her head. "Spectra…specter. Why don't people check these things?"

"Well, what's important is that we have our son back, breathing the air of free men, again." From behind the wheel, Jack took a whiff of said air.

"Danny, can you ever forgive us?"

The boy looked at his parents nervously. "Wait. You didn't think that I--?"

"No. It's just that…we did lose some faith in you."

"Mom, of course I can forgive the both of you."

"That's good to hear, Danny. I can't wait to get you back home."

"Your room is just the way you left it. Of course I had to do some of the laundry that was on the floor."

Danny blushed at his mother's news. He never was the most organized teenager.

XxXxXxXxX

The van pulled up in front of Fenton Works. Danny looked out the window at his home. The place seemed a little conspicuous in town, but he was never more glad to see it than now.

He carefully stepped out of the vehicle and walked up to the front door. If nothing else, Danny could take comfort in the fact that the nightmare has concluded.


	6. House Calls

Danny reached his hand toward the front door and placed a key in the lock. The feeling of re-entering his home was weird but satisfying. He could hear the tumblers working as he pushed the door open. He took the key out and held it in his hand as he walked in.

The boy had only a fraction of a moment to take in his dwelling. A pair of hands seemed to slam the door shut and knock Danny against it.

XxXxXxXxX

Their attention drawn toward the noise, Jack and Maddie hurried to the door and knocked on it.

"Danny!"

"Danny! Are you all right?"

XxXxXxXxX

As his parents continued their worried protestations, the boy shook his head and saw the face of his aggressor. It was Spectra. The top half of her was human, while her ghostly bottom half wrapped around Danny's body like an anaconda. Her left hand bolted the door, and the right clamped over his mouth.

"You thought you were so clever with that tape recorder stunt, didn't you? 'Oh, look at me. I busted you.' It doesn't matter. I can find another identity. I can find another way to get to you and your classmates." As she spoke, Danny balled his hand into a fist, which gave off a bright green glow. You're not gonna be rid of me so easily."

He brought his fist up and connected with her face. He took a few steps forward, shifting into ghost mode. "Then I guess we have to make it hard."

Spectra flipped backwards, becoming a full floating ghost. She charged at Danny, who, an annoyed expression on his face, floated upward through the ceiling.

With a look of fanatical determination, Spectra phased through the ceiling.

XxXxXxXxX

The two adults stood at the door. Maddie frantically knocked on it, while Jack worked the knob.

"We have to get inside. Something's happening to Danny, I know it!"

"All the keys are inside."

The woman grunted. "Well, can't we take the door off its hinges?"

"They're on the inside, too."

Another knock on the door from the frustrated matriarch. "Danny…", she whimpered.

XxXxXxXxX

Spectra found herself in a bedroom. There were pictures of space shuttles on the walls. The bed looked like it had been slept in…and still was. The covers looked to hide a giant mass.

She smiled as she approached the bed. "Oh, shame on you for making this so easy." Spectra leapt on the pile, raining blows upon it and laughing all the way. After a while, the mass of covers felt soft. Too soft. She threw back the covers to reveal…pillows.

A low growl emanated from her throat. Meanwhile, another sound was developing in the room. It sounded like laughter. From the wall.

Spectra didn't even turn around. She knew who it was. The laughter drew closer. Danny appeared from out of thin air, still laughing. She lunged at him and slashed with her claws.

The two of them flew through the walls of the top floor. Spectra set up another punch, but Danny dodged it and, again, became invisible.

The female entity growled as she flew, looking for her target.

XxXxXxXxX

Maddie wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at her husband. "Jack! What about the windows?"

"But the security system's armed. There's no way anyone could get in."

"Do you still have that old Club?"

"Yeah." He jerked a thumb toward the van. "It's under the driver's seat."

"Use that to prop the window open."

"But what about the--"

"Just do it…and prepare to toss me."

"Come again?"

"Through the window."

Jack loved and trusted his wife, which made what she was suggesting that much more questionable to him. He glanced at her as he propped the Club in the window, holding it open.

'_You have to the count of five to close this window or else. Five…Four…'_

Jack hefted his nimble spouse through the window. ('_Three…'_) She dove as the window tried to close ('_Two…'_), the Club stopping it from clamping down on her. ('_One.'_)

XxXxXxXxX

Maddie stood to her feet and glanced at the front door. The keys were right in front of it. She opened the door. Jack eagerly hurried inside.

The woman put a hand to her mouth. "Danny?"

XxXxXxXxX

"_Danny?"_

The boy could hear his mother's cry all the way in the bathroom. He stood in the shower, the curtains drawn. Given how enraged Spectra was currently, he didn't want to attack without a good solid plan. A sly expression came over him. He was ready to make his move…

Spectra flew by that very room. She peered in. It looked like any other bathroom. Any other empty bathroom. She grunted and flew past.

She continued down the hallway, unaware of the presence behind her.

"Penelope is a very pretty name." The fire in her eyes is all too obvious. "Too bad it's wasted on a hag like you."

Spectra roared as she flew at Danny. He dodged her like a veteran toreador. She turned around and glowered at the boy. If looks could kill, there would be no Fenton children left.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're cute when you're angry?"

The look on the entity's face softened. "Why, no." She always loved getting complimented on her beauty.

"Good. Don't want anyone spreading false rumors."

Another charge, another dodge. Danny flew through the floor, Spectra in hot pursuit.

About a second later, Maddie hurried up the stairs. She looked around and let out a defeated sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"I was sure I heard something up here. I'll check up here. You look down there."

"Got it!", Jack eagerly replied.

XxXxXxXxX

The lab hadn't changed too much since Danny's incarceration. His parents kept busy as ever, even though their hearts weren't quite in it as they were.

On a table were some of their inventions: the Fenton Fisher, the Fenton Thermos, the Fenton Peeler…so, maybe, there was a bit of a narcissism motif in the naming of the devices.

Danny had known about the latter creation; its ability to strip away a ghost's layers. He shuddered at the gruesome implications, at least, in terms of its use on him. Its use on other ghosts, however, was not a problem.

Spectra floated down, her hands balled into fists. The boy crouched down from behind a cabinet. He cupped his hands over his mouth. He'd hoped to throw his voice. After all, it couldn't been that hard, right?

"Tell me something." The malevolent one snapped her head around. "Just how long were you planning on maintaining your looks? A hundred years? A thousand years?" She peered around the cabinet. Nothing there. "A million?" She flies toward the source of the voice from the other side of the lab. One had to appreciate the acoustics of this place. "Or maybe 'til it was just you and the cockroaches. There's nothing like family reunions, is there?"

For Spectra, the room seemed to start spinning. "Show yourself, you little punk! What happened to your sister was nothing - you hear me? - _nothing_ compared to what I'm gonna do to you!" She let out a crazy, end-of-her-rope kind of laughter. "You've fucked with the wrong woman!"

A powerful blast embedded itself in her back, threatening to burn its way through her chest. A primal scream erupted from her throat. She collapsed to the floor, just barely holding herself up with her arms.

Danny lowered his glowing hand. "Sorry. I wasn't aware I was dealing with a woman."

Spectra gritted her teeth as she slowly advanced on Danny. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the table of inventions. A mere second went by before she noticed his expression. Just the way the devices looked proved that serious harm could be done with them.

Danny hurried toward the inventions, but Spectra flipped the table, sending them flying. The ghost boy reached back and tried to catch the Peeler, which seemed to move in slow-motion. He grabbed the device just as Spectra grabbed his leg and swung him toward the wall.

He bumped his head against the wall, momentarily having forgotten to phase through it.

Spectra stared daggers at Danny as she walked toward him. His vision was blurry from the knock, but he tried to fire a shot. Nothing.

The witch drew ever closer. Danny shifted back to human form and turned it on again. The armor slowly encased his body, feeling like a metallic set of pajamas. As this was happening, Spectra stood back, shocked at what was happening to her adversary. This may account for why, in a number of animes, the villains don't simply attack the heroes while they are transforming.

When it was over, Danny was bowed on one knee, his head down, and fully suited. He raised his head at the apparition, the being that took away his freedom, his liberties and his sister. His eyes narrowed at her. He could only think of two words to say to Spectra:

"Let's rock."

"So, what, I'm supposed to be scared now that you look like some emaciated 'Transformer' rip-off? Please." Danny aimed the Peeler at Spectra's right hand, which she was waving around to accentuate her point. "You can't hurt me anymore than a feather can knock down a skyscraper…"

The beam from the Peeler, first stripped away the ghostly layer, leaving the hand of the young woman she was pretending to be. That soon was stripped away little by little, leaving the desiccated claw of a very elderly woman. Spectra stared at, then cradled her withered hand. "What did you just do?"

"Gave you a taste of humanity. You want to pretend to be human? Then you get to age just like humans. Then, you can find out what it means to lose those around you."

Spectra slowly advanced on Danny. "You shouldn't worry about me losing anything." He took aim once again. "You're the one who should…" The beam shot at her left arm, turning it into a young woman's, then a liver-spotted mass of saggy flesh. Spectra felt the appendage fall to her side. She tried to move it, but it was frail. Fragile. Useless.

The woman flew toward Danny in a blind fury. The boy simply raised the Peeler and aimed it at her lower half.

Her ghostly tail split in half, forming a pair of model's legs that, with each second, grew more and more decrepit. The weight of her upper half was greater than her legs could carry. She heard a distinct cracking sound. She looked down and saw that her legs were buckling. A loud crack came from both legs. Her ghost body collapsed on her weak appendages, shattering them. Spectra let out a loud, long and painful scream.

Danny threatened to smirk as he regarded his enemy. "That's for my sister, and this…", he said, aiming at her midsection. "…is for my parents." The stomach formed into an impressive shape but for a moment, before being riddled with wrinkles and stretch marks. Higher up on her body, two bumps formed, creating spectacular D-cup breasts…that quickly lost their shapes as well as the fight with gravity, joining what was left of her legs on the floor.

"This is for Tucker." The Peeler picked a new target: her right arm, stripping away its youth. He next aimed at her neck. "This…is for Sam." The youthful stability of the neck was quickly destroyed, giving her head a chance to crush it.

"Danny, can't we talk about th--?"

"You are done talking. This is for the students of Casper High." Danny aimed the Peeler at her mouth. It's lips puckered out into appealing forms before shriveling into a pair of deflated balloons that looked more than a little creepy on her ghostly face.

The boy aimed the device at her head. "And this…well, this is also for my sister." The beam stripped away the ghost head, revealing a beautiful red head (though, the boy briefly thought, it may be better that she didn't use her beauty for any purposes; they'd most likely be evil ones). It quickly devolved into a much less attractive one.

Danny stared at the ectoplasmic pile on the floor of the lab. As far as he was concerned, he'd have been content to leave Spectra like this, as a warning to any other ghosts who would dare step over the line as she did.

"Danny…"

He didn't even turn around to face her. She could rasp all she wanted. It wasn't going to do her a bit of good.

"You…wouldn't…leave me…like this…would you?" It clearly pained Spectra to even speak, such was the damage to her body.

The boy walked over to the Fenton Portal and placed a thumb on the ID panel. The doors whooshed open. "The Danny Fenton that _you_ sent to juvenile hall probably wouldn't have, but the Danny Fenton that was recently released from juvenile hall? The Danny Fenton who lost his older sister and will _never _get her back? It is possible."

"Danny…I'm sorry." Spectra looked like she was crying.

"Sorry you got caught, not about committing the actual crime. I hate criminals like that. You know, I bet that in the nanosecond between seeing the beam and getting vaporized, Jazz begged for her life, too", Danny said as he grabbed the Thermos from the floor near the portal. "A quick death is a privilege, one you've done absolutely nothing to earn." He looked down at Spectra and sneered. He put the cylinder down and picked up the Peeler. Spectra forced herself to raise her eyebrows.

"Well, maybe one more for the road."

"_Danny!"_

Jazz's spirit flew through the entrance of the portal. She tried to take Danny by the arm, but her hand passed through him.

"Danny, don't do it. Don't hurt her, anymore. Can't you she that this is exactly what she wants?" The boy had the Peeler trained on Spectra, waiting to turn it on.

"_This_…is what…I want?" Spectra tried mightily to motion to the wrinkled mass of her body.

"She wants you to be just like her: manipulative, cruel, vindictive. You aren't her. You don't have to be her."

Danny's Peeler-holding arm was shaking. He lowered the arm and the device slipped from his hand.

Without a second thought, Danny shifted into his ghost form and hugged his sister tightly. "Oh, Jazz!"

He cried into her shoulder while she stroked his back and the back of his head. "There, there. It's all right."

Danny pulled away from her and stared into her eyes. "I miss you so much." He again buried his head into her. "It hurts missing you."

The hand that was stroking him reached behind his back and transmogrified into a fist holding a carving knife. "Don't worry, Danny." She raised the knife. "You'll never hurt again."

Just as she lowered it, a hook embedded itself into her wrist. The line attached to the hook grew taut. Jazz could feel her arm being pulled. With a sharp tug, the hook ripped her arm right out of its socket.

Jazz's screaming snapped Danny out of his funk. He turned around and saw a figure standing before the portal. It was Jazz holding the Fenton Fisher. Danny cocked an eyebrow; if Jazz is there, then who is this?

The figure that was once Jazz continued to scream. It sank to its knees and its screaming deepened, sounding more and more male. The long hair on fake Jazz receded to a somewhat neater - and distinctly unfeminine - style. A mustache grew under the figure's now stubby nose.

The body collapsed to the floor. It looked up at Spectra. She tried to open her mouth in shock.

"Bertrand! Why…?"

"Why? Why?! Two weeks and three days."

"Wh-what?"

"Two weeks and three days. That's how long I was trapped in that Thermos. No one to talk to. My legs cramping up. And who released me? Who was it that came to my rescue?" He put a female hand to his face. "Oh, yes, that's right - _nobody_! That's who let me out." He turned to Danny. "When someone gets a little power, they forget who their real friends are. You know what I mean?"

Danny shook his head. "Wait, it was you this whole time?"

"Correct, Sherlock. I wanted to get back at Spectra for abandoning me. Unfortunately, I needed you."

XxXxXxXxX

"_I came to you that night. I was hoping you'd be bitter enough to want a little payback. Thankfully, I was right."_

"Jazz" grabbed a tape recorder and taped it to the bottom of Spectra's chair. She pressed the 'record' button and disappeared through the floor just as Spectra walked in the room.

"_It took a while to get something usable out of her, but take it from me: she's always been in love with the sound of her own voice. It was bound to come out."_

"…you're just some punk kid with shitty grades, loony parents and a dead sister!"

"_I had to be there for the trial. The thought of Spectra's goose getting cooked is what made those two and a half weeks even slightly bearable."_

Danny, having heard the verdict, ran and hugged his parents. He saw people filing out of the door. As they swung in and out, he saw Jazz floating. She gave him the signal - tugging her ear - and disappeared. The boy smiled through his tears.

XxXxXxXxX

"Sappy? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely."

Spectra scowled as best as she could. "If I could…move…"

"Yes, but you can't." Bertrand turned around. "And as for you…" He was staring right into the barrel of the Fenton Thermos.

"It's about time you two got back together." Danny positioned the Thermos in such a way that Spectra and Bertrand could be sucked in at once. The two of them screamed as they were sucked inside. Danny placed the cap on the Thermos and set it aside.

He looked to Jazz and approached her cautiously. "Jazz? It _is_ you, isn't it?"

"Danny, what's happened to you?" She ran a hand through his snow white hair. "What's with this suit and your hair? I told Mom and Dad that this ghost nonsense was dangerous, but do they listen?"

Whatever else Jazz felt like saying died in her throat; the air was practically squeezed out of her by her younger brother. His tears began afresh as he continued hugging. "It is you", he said, barely above a whisper.

She smiled and returned the hug. "I love you, Danny."

"_Danny!"_

The siblings broke apart and looked toward the door.

"Oh, man. Mom and Dad. I nearly forgot about them. Jazz, you have to go."

"But, Danny--"

Danny motioned to the both of them. "I don't think they'd be ready to see either of us like this."

"Good point." She kissed his cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Jazz." The ghost flew into the portal. Danny transformed back into his human form as Jack and Maddie hurried down the stairs.

"Danny. What happened? The door locked on us. We heard screaming. Are you all right?"

The boy exhaled. "Mom, Dad. I've had a long day. Can I please get some rest?"

"Well, sure, son." Danny walked toward the stairs. "Maybe then, you can explain what happened." Jack's words stung the boy. Trying to explain what had happened would be a daunting task, and editing it for parental discretion was no picnic, either.


	7. Normality Again

Danny laid still on his bed, an expression of contentment on his face. A stream of blue light slipped past his lips, but, surprisingly, he didn't move a muscle; almost as if he was expecting a visitor.

He cracked an eye open. "I got 'em for you, good, didn't I, Jazz?"

"It could've been a little less like a splatter movie, but…I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered." Her voice echoed in the room.

"You know, it would be nice to see who I'm talking to."

"Fine." The spirit slowly appeared. It was Jazz, as she always looked - long hair, dark shirt, blue pants - only as a green-tinted ghost. She brought a hand to her head. "Woooh. I've got to get the hang of this."

Danny sat up in his bed. "I'll help you. I still can't believe how calm you're being about this."

"I have to admit that, for a while, I was pretty scared. I ended up in this…void, I guess. I saw all kinds of ghosts. Some of them were mean. I learned to avoid them pretty quickly. And then, I came across other kinds of ghosts; ones that were as lost as I was. It was like a support group." Jazz exhaled as she floated next to her brother. "All this time, Mom and Dad have wanted to eliminate ghosts when what they need to do is understand them."

"Well, with their kids as ghosts, they don't have too much choice." Danny chuckled a little.

"Irony is a very cruel thing."

"I hear you."

There was a knock at Danny's door. "_Danny? Is everything okay in there?"_

"Fine, Mom!" Danny whispered to the ghost at his side. "Jazz, I've decided to tell them."

"_Then are you ready to come downstairs?"_

"In a minute!"

"_Okay, dear."_

"But, Danny…"

"You said it yourself: they need to understand ghosts. Who better to start with than us?"

"I meant after a while."

"If I've learned anything from all of this, it's that you shouldn't keep important things from family. You may never get the chance to tell them."

"Danny…" She sounded very worried for her brother.

"I have to, Jazz. I hope you'll understand."

She looked down. She hated him for wanting to take this chance, but sort of understood that it was unavoidable.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny glanced at this parents from across the living room. They looked at him expectantly. The boy took a deep breath.

Maddie leaned forward on the couch. "Danny, if you have something - anything - to tell us, it would be a good idea to let us know."

Another breath from the young man. "It's just that…I can tell you what happened. That's simple, but…" Danny puts his hand up, palm down. "It's pretty much layer upon layer of explanations, and they might get a little unbelievable." He moves the hand gradually toward the floor for effect.

"Son…", Jack started. "All your mother and I ask is that you're honest with us. It doesn't matter how unbelievable your story may be. As long as its not some elaborate lie."

Danny smiled inwardly.

"Now, first off, why were the inventions knocked over downstairs?" The woman's voice was kindness mixed with confusion.

"Well, Spectra had flipped the table they were on. Thankfully, none of them were broken…"

"Wait, wait. Spectra was in here?"

"Yeah. She was waiting for me."

"Oh, my." The woman put a hand to her mouth.

"Sounds like we need to step up security around here." Jack rose from his seat and was about to rush off, but Maddie's arm tugged at his.

"Maybe we should hear Danny's story, first."

He obliged his wife and sat down. "Fine."

"Please go on, Danny."

"Thankfully, none of the inventions were broken. I used the Fenton Peeler on Spectra…and, by the way, that thing is incredible. The way it stripped Spectra…wow…"

XxXxXxXxX

Danny's explanation of his multi-layered ordeal went on for a good forty-five minutes. His parents occasionally interrupted him to get clarification on some things. At the beginning, they listened with parental concern, but, by now, the adults were riveted to their seats.

"…Jazz was giving her speech, I was fighting with Spectra outside the gym."

"Did you have any weapons?"

Danny rubbed the back of his head. "Not really", he stated haltingly.

"Then how were you able to fight her?"

The boy took a breath. "Now, you're my parents, and I love you, and you know I'd never do anything to hurt you, right?"

"Of course, Danny."

Danny closed his eyes and concentrated, balling his hands into fists. Two rings of light developed around his waist and traveled at the same time. One went toward the floor, while the other rose to the ceiling.

The rings dissipated, leaving a figure in a tight black suit with snow white hair and green eyes. Jack and Maddie stared at the unfamiliar being, eyes agog and mouths open. The very next thing they did was to move a hand to each other's faces and close their mouths.

The figure that was once Danny shrugged its shoulders. "So…what do you think?"

Maddie stood up and nervously stuck her hand out to him. "Wh-what happened to you?"

"It was a little mishap with the ghost portal. I'm half-ghost. You should see what I can do…"

Whatever Danny had to say was immediately cut-off by his mother's crushing hug. She buried her face in his shoulder. "Danny." She looked into his eyes, no longer the blue she had known since his birth. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Well, there was kind of a shock when it first happened. Like static electricity times a thousand."

Danny, followed not too long by his mother, turned to Jack. "Well, what do you think?"

The large man could only stare at his unusual-looking son. "This throws my entire perception of reality into question."

"I know you've spent a while trying to catch and…" Danny gulped. "…eliminate ghosts. I can only hope that this won't change things between us." The boy closed his eyes, expecting the worst. He could feel his mother letting go of him. Seconds later, he felt an even bigger hug. Danny opened his eyes and saw that Jack's arms were around him.

"Danny, even if you decided to grift your way through life. Heck, even if you dropped out of school, shaved your head and joined one of those freaky Midwestern cults, you're still my son, and I love you."

Tears dripped from Danny's face. Both parents were hugging him and crying - pretty much the opposite of what he expected if and when he decided to reveal this.

From behind an upstairs wall, Jazz glanced at the touching scene. She turned away. She never expected this from her parents. One of the things that ran through her head seemingly non-stop after learning Danny's secret was how their parents would react. Given their past reactions to all things ghost-related, she was annoyed and fearful at what would become of her little brother.

Looking back to her family, she was overcome with a new feeling: calmness. Worrying about her family and her schoolwork, she had denied herself this important emotion while she was alive. She should've counted on things working out at least once instead of fretting over the details. They may have been her ghost-hunting parents, but they would always be…her parents.

Jazz appeared at the foot of the stairs just as Jack and Maddie, their backs to her, released Danny.

"I suppose that things are going to change around here in terms of ghosts", Maddie half-inquired, half-mused.

"Um, speaking of issues that are 'ghost-related'…" A cheesy segue, if ever there was one, and Jazz knew it.

Danny waved his hand, beckoning her to come. Jazz obliged.

Jack and Maddie turned around. If their mouths hung open with Danny's surprise, then they threatened to unhinge their jaws at seeing their daughter.

Jazz nervously waved hello to her parents. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad." She tried smiling through her tears, but it was a challenge.

Maddie reached a hand out, as did Jazz. The appendages went right through each other. The women shivered as they retracted their hands, feeling the peculiar sensation.

Jack stepped forward. "Hello, Jasmine."

Danny watched this and thought for a moment. His eyes perked up. "I think I have an idea."

He placed an arm around both parents, rendering them intangible. Jack and Maddie looked around.

"You can try it now." Danny walked his parents to Jazz. Because of their varying interests, the family seldom (if ever) engaged in group hugs. This time, such an outpouring of emotion was entirely warranted.

XxXxXxXxX

It had been a few days before Danny re-entered his high school. His parents wanted to run tests on him. They were mainly to test his health and stamina; they certainly didn't want to risk taking him to a doctor, lest a new firestorm of controversy rain down on the Fenton home.

From what Mr. and Mrs. Fenton could see, their son was the picture of health but for this non-fatal anomaly.

Danny looked up at Casper High. It surprised him to admit this, but he missed the place. He missed the feeling of camaraderie among his fellow students, the chance at a good education, the social hierarchy and the condescension that came with it, the…so maybe it wasn't completely missed.

XxXxXxXxX

"Tucker!"

The African-American boy turned in the direction of the voice. There was only one person in the school who'd call him that who wasn't a teacher:

"Danny!"

The students ran toward each other and hugged. After a moment, they broke apart. Masculinity usually trumps emotion.

"It's good to see you, Danny."

"It's good to be seen." He looked around eagerly. "Where's Sam?"

"Sorry about not visiting for a while. I got grounded and my parents forbade me from going out or using technology…"

"That's too bad. Where's Sam?"

"It was such a nightmare. I can't even begin to tell you…"

Danny grabs his friend's arms. His patience is at its end. "Where…is…Sam?!"

Tucker groans. "I didn't want to have to tell you this. I knew I would have to, but I didn't."

"Did a…" He looks at the students passing them. "…you-know-what get her?"

"No! No. She's fine…as far as I know."

"As far as you know? Tucker, what happened?"

"After we snuck out that day and came back, we got detention."

"Yeah, you told me that."

"My parents weren't happy and neither were Sam's. In fact, they were…mad enough to pull her out of Casper. Said you were a 'bad influence'."

Danny banged his head against a locker. A brunette girl walked up to him and poked his shoulder. "Can I get to my locker, please?"

The boy moved down a few doors and resumed. "I've lost my sister and now, I've lost one of my best friends. A real banner month for me." With one final bang, Danny walked down the hall alongside Tucker.

XxXxXxXxX

Throughout the day, Danny found himself paying more attention in his classes. Perhaps, the experience of having his freedom taken away taught him to show more appreciation for what he has. Moreover, he did it for the two girls he lost because of this ordeal; the girls who, whether he realized it or not, inspired him to be a better person: his sister and his best female friend.

On the way out, Danny was stopped by Mr. Lancer, who requested that the boy speak with him.

"Mr. Fenton?"

"Yes, Mr. Lancer?" Danny nervously took a seat.

"I heard about what happened at your trial. It's not easy for an educator to admit their mistakes, but I do hope that you'll accept my deepest apologies. I should've known that you'd never do anything to hurt your sister."

"It's all right. I'm just happy that the truth came out."

"If you need anything; a free period, leniency on class projects…"

Danny put his hands up. "I don't want any special treatment. I just want to work on my education on my own merits."

"Well done, Danny. Jazz would be proud."

"I have a feeling you'd be right about that", the boy said, looking wistfully out of the window.

XxXxXxXxX

At various points during the day and the walk home, Danny felt a pang of sadness for Sam. He tried to visit her at home, but her parents refused to let him in. For any other boy, this would be a problem…but for a boy with ghost powers, it was just a matter of silence. He ducked into an alley and shifted into ghost form.

He flew through the walls until he ended up in Sam's room. It dawned on him just how little he had seen of the room when he heard a door opening.

"…girls can be such bi…" Sam stopped in her tracks. It was almost as if she could sense that she wasn't alone. She dropped her backpack and took a defensive stance. "All right, whatever you are. Show yourself!"

Danny faded into sight and put his hands up. "It's okay. I come in peace."

"Danny!", she yelled in a whisper. She ran to him and hugged him. "I missed you so much." She let go of him.

"I missed you, too…" At this moment, Danny got an eyeful of Sam's outfit: a blouse with the first few buttons undone, a plaid skirt, knee high socks and Mary Janes, size 2. The open blouse afforded him a glance at a black bra encasing her modest bust.

"Danny?" The sight of his best friend's assets had frozen his expression. Sam snapped her fingers in his face. "Danny?"

He shook his head. "Yum. I mean, um, I…I don't…I mean, I'm sorry. Not for you; you look nice, but for stare-- was I staring?"

Doing up her buttons, Sam nodded.

"Sorry about that."

"I probably should've seen this coming. They make us wear these stupid things at that stupid school 'for Wicked, Wayward Girls'."

"So, there's a whole school of girls your age wearing the same outfit?"

"Yeah. It's a nightma--" Sam looked right at Danny. "Don't even think about it, Danny Fenton!"

"Hey. Give me a break. All I've had to look at in the last month was Spectra. A guy can have some trouble readjusting to the outside."

The girl snickered as she disappeared into her closet. "Speaking of her, what happened to her?"

"It's a long story. Jazz helped me catch her, but then it turned out that Spectra's lapdog was pretending to be Jazz. Then the _real_ Jazz shows up to help."

"Sounds crazy." Sam reappeared from her closet dressed in her black top and skirt. "That's better."

"It was crazy, though I wouldn't call that better."

Having walked to her bed, Sam tossed a pillow at him. "Oh, grow up." Danny turned invisible, allowing the pillow to fly through him.

"_Samantha, who are you talking to?"_

The girl blanched. She turned her head to the door. "Nobody, Mom."

"Time for me to go?"

"Time for you to go. Tell Tucker I said 'hi'."

"You can tell him yourself. I'm coming back tomorrow." Sam stood up and looked ready to protest. "And before you say it's too risky, I'm not going to let a little something like this break up our friendship."

"That's nice, Danny, but I was about to say that you should wait a few minutes before bringing Tucker over. If _you_ reacted to my school uniform like that, I can only imagine what _he's_ gonna look like if he sees it."

Danny let out a nervous chuckle. "Good point." He shifted to ghost mode and flew from Sam's window. She followed him as he soared through the sky.

XxXxXxXxX

Slowly but surely, Danny's life returned to normal. He succeeded in his schoolwork, thanks to the assistance of his dear sister, Jazz. She, herself, had adjusted to her post-living state with surprising ease. In addition to helping her family (and garnering a better understanding of their quirks), she made for a talented and effective analyst to the ghosts. All told, she was much better at understanding what made ghosts tick and how to help them than her immediate predecessor - one Penelope Spectra.

Much to Danny's surprise, the ghost attacks slowed to a trickle in Amity Park. At first, he thought that it might have had something to do with what he did to Spectra. Ultimately, he was informed of his sister's progress in helping the ghosts get to the root of their problems. After a while, many of them didn't feel the need to attack humans. There was, however, an exception to the rule…

Vlad Masters had heard about the entire situation. Not long after it had passed, he decided to pay a visit to his former classmates. In his typically verbose and assured style, he attacked the Fentons, but they were able to defend themselves, with help from their son. Following the onslaught, Danny sat his parents down and explained the whole story to them: how, when they visited him, Vlad revealed how he acquired ghost powers and used them to build his empire. They were significantly skeptical, at first (particularly Jack, who was convinced that they had been good friends way back when), but they trusted their son…and recognized the smooth voice that was delivering the taunts.

The Fentons invited him over one night. Vlad was all too happy to attend. The night took an interesting turn when they slipped little hints about his other half. They made a deal with him: they'll keep quiet about his ill-gotten gains and his…added abilities if he left the family alone forever; no visits, no calls, no messages, no gifts, not even a sympathy card at their funerals. Begrudgingly, the millionaire accepted the terms. Of course, they mentioned nothing about their son's friends…

Something that Danny and Jazz managed to consider. Given how well Sam and Tucker handled themselves during what was ultimately known as the 'Sitch with the Witch', they were up to the challenge, gaining sort of a rush from battling ghosts. Vlad backed off…but not before making a few calls to Sam's parents about the company she still kept. In no time at all, Sam was sent to live with her aunt and uncle upstate, not far from her new school.

Of course, Danny visited her, when it didn't interfere with his life too strongly. They reminisced about the fun they had. From time to time, Danny brought Tucker along and, eventually, got a peek at Sam in the uniform. It was impossible for him to wipe the smile off of his face. More often than not, the boys were nearly caught. Completely understanding of the risks they were taking, the boys decided that contacting Sam through e-mail was the best way to go.

It was amazing how the time flew before the friends ended up in college. Tucker's grades were such that he could get into any school he wanted. Danny took his improved marks to a state school. Though his social standing improved -with more than a few ladies wanting to know him better - he was more concerned with how his friends were doing. He e-mailed Sam and Tucker every day, but it never felt the same, and he had no desire to flunk out of college. Sam, meanwhile, enjoyed a stay at Yale.

It was around the time of their respective graduations that two events shook Danny to his core: he heard that Sam was engaged to a man she met in her final year and his sister disappeared without a trace. He searched the Ghost Zone high and low for Jazz, but she couldn't be found. For a while, Danny possessed a bitter attitude toward life, the kind not seen since his imprisonment. Some years later, he found himself in Amity Park, sitting on a bench and staring. Given how much had happened, he figured he'd be traveling; seeing the world.

XxXxXxXxX

Danny was so upset, he didn't seem to notice, much less care about the person that sat down next to him.

"This seat isn't taken, is it?"

The young man was ready to yell at the person offering the lame cliché. At seeing the woman's longish dark hair and sweet expression, his bitterness melted away. "No, of course not."

"It's good to see you again, Danny." The young woman was just as attractive as when she was a teenager. Danny knew this, but had been apprehensive about saying so. Even at her wedding, when he easily could've gotten away with it, he mumbled something about 'how the groom was very lucky' and that was it.

"Same here. So, what brings you to Amity Park?"

"I don't know. I guess I wanted to see the folks again. Like 'em or not, they're family. How's yours doing?"

"They're…doing. Last I checked, they were working on a book: 'Understanding Ghosts'. They were going to dedicate it to Jazz. Kind of fitting, since she did a lot of research for it. I haven't heard from her in four years."

"Come on, Danny. It's not like she'd fall off the face of the universe. My God, there's so much to catch up on. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Office job. It's not too glamorous, but it keeps the wolf away from the door."

"What about your dream of being an astronaut?"

"Packed away, Sam, like so many white shirts. I have a record, now. People like that don't get to go into space."

"Danny, that's just bull. They let convicts into every other aspect of society: the fast-food industry, politics, show business…"

He couldn't help but laugh. He missed the way Sam would rail against various groups in the name of what's right.

"Your husband must be proud." Before he could even register what he was saying, the words spilled from Danny's mouth.

"Oh, don't even get me started on that yutz. Doesn't even have the decency to tell me to my face that he's cheating on me. No way I was gonna stand for that. I hope he and his trollop are very happy together. How about you?"

"Well, I'm unattached at the moment."

"Come on. Stud like yourself? I figure you'd be wallowing in girls." Sam's voice held a certain sardonic tone.

"I didn't want girls." Danny hoped that she'd see the look in his eyes that all but yelled, 'I want _you_.'

"I heard that Tucker was doing pretty well for himself…"

"Yeah. Computer engineer with a degree from MIT and a cute girlfriend."

"I guess he just needed to go someplace where the girls didn't know him." The two friends were surprised to find that they had the same thought, much less vocalized it together. They shared a laugh at the occurrence.

"_Oof!"_

"Be careful, honey!"

Danny looked out to the small girl dusting herself off and getting back on the swing. "Who's that?"

Sam took a breath. "Perhaps the only good thing to come from that marriage."

The young man looked out at the child, who couldn't have been more than three years old. She had red hair which was tied in a ponytail and held in place with a teal headband, the same color as her dress.

"Jane! Jane!" The girl jumped from the swing and ran toward her mother.

"It's not time to go yet, is it?"

"No, sweetie. I just wanted you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Mr. Fenton. Say hello."

Jane gave a slight wave. "Hello, Mister Fenton", she said in a small, adorable voice.

"Isn't she the sweetest?" As Danny picked her up, Sam tried to stop him. To her surprise, Jane cooed and giggled at the man's touch.

"That's weird. Usually, when a stranger reaches out to her, she starts to scream and cry."

"I guess I'm not a stranger, then." He put her behind his head and she held on to him. Sam took a few steps down the path followed by her friend.

Danny could feel the girl hug his head. "I missed you, Danny."

He glanced up at her. "Excuse me?"

"Danny, don't tell me you don't recognize me."

He tried to put what little pieces he had together: the kindness at his touch, her knowing his name…"Jazz?!"

Sam turned around. "What about Jazz?"

The girl looked at Danny and shook her head. "I just really miss her is all."

She continued walking, leaving the man and the girl alone. "I was…reincarnated, Danny." She struggled with the five-syllable word. Her spirit knew it, but it was a matter of getting her three-year-old brain to understand it. "I got to come back."

"Will wonders never cease?"

"I know you like her. Remember, I studied…psychology." Four syllables, this time, but it was a challenge.

"Take it easy. There'll be plenty of time for big words later. Right now, just enjoy being a girl."

"Okay, Danny."

"You know, I wasn't that great a brother to you, but I hope I'll be a good caretaker."

"Danny, you were always a good brother. You just didn't know it."

The man took Jane's hand and kissed it. She smiled and hugged him again. Danny looked to Sam, who was a few paces ahead of him. He fast-walked to catch up, mindful of the bundle of joy at his shoulder blades.

"Sam, if you're not doing anything tonight, do you think we could, I don't know, get together."

"That sounds nice, Danny."

"Good." He wanted to kick himself as much as possible. 'Get together'? Sure, and maybe they could share a milkshake at Pop's Choklit Shoppe. He wanted her ever since her wedding, and perhaps long before that. He was afraid of taking the chance of losing her in case she didn't feel the same way, even though he hoped in his heart that she did. All he needed was a sign. He glanced toward the heavens for a sign that might never have come…

"Oh, and Danny? My school uniform still fits. Just thought you'd like to know that." Sam offered a naughty smile with her declaration.

Danny took his female friend by her hand and clasped it tight. If that wasn't the sign, nothing was.

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A/N: A long time ago, I watched "My Brother's Keeper" and the idea of Danny failing to save Jazz and suffering the consequences would not leave me alone. I remembered there being two stories that followed this path back when the episode first aired. One was a sweet take while the other was, I imagine, meant to be as dark as I tried to make this one; it was never finished. One of the authors of those stories was nice enough to give their opinion and I am quite thankful.

One thing I like about the show and one thing that the show seems to take for granted (coughSecretWeaponscough) is the relationship between Danny and Jazz. The kitchen scene in MBK is one of my favorite moments in the show, and I really wanted to expand on that.

And to the person who inquired: Danny not revealing himself in this story…bad, but Danny not revealing himself on the show…good? Whatever!

Thanks for reading and reviewing and have a nice day.


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